Eclipse Reimagined
by Visser2315
Summary: Hunted by a psychotic vampire out for revenge, Beau once again finds himself in the midst of danger—but even that's not much distraction when the people you love most all want to kill each other. [Sequel to New Moon Reimagined]
1. Preface

A/N: And—we're back. I started out with the last one telling myself I'd only do a few chapters for fun. But, at the back of my mind, I knew I was lying to myself. Thanks so much to all of you who read _New Moon Reimagined_ , and hope you'll continue to have some fun with me. :J

Disclaimer: Same as last time. The Twilight series and _Life and Death_ both belong to Stephanie Meyer, along with a good many of the lines, dialogue, and word choices. (This is the same story as the Twilight saga after all, only with the genders reversed.) But again, this is not a transcribed version of the books with the names and pronouns switched, so expect quite a few differences—sometimes more than a few.

Rated T for all those things in the original Eclipse, violence and some sexual themes. (Though the latter may be less so in this version.)

Thanks for reading, and look forward to seeing you next chapter!

* * *

Preface

It had all come to nothing.

Every maneuver, every plan we had come up with and put into effect, had failed.

I watched the small form in front of me bend, arms tense, ready to defend me to the death. She was outnumbered—I was just a liability.

No one was coming to help us. They had their own fight to get through. We were absolutely alone—no, _she_ was alone. I didn't count for anything. However, there was no trace of doubt in her face, no hint of fear. She stared back at our assailants with absolute concentration.

As we stood there, I wondered if we would ever know what had happened to the other part of my family—both families. If they had won their fight, or if they were losing, even as we stood here. Would we live long enough to find out?

I looked back into the face of the enemy, the deep black eyes that stared at me with wild bloodlust. The face that I'd seen so many times in my nightmares. He stood where he was, waiting for the moment when the small figure standing in front of me would shift, distracted for just a moment. The moment when he would strike, and put an end to me.

Somewhere, off in the distance, I heard the mournful howl of a wolf.


	2. Balance

A/N: Hey! (Yes, we're doing this. I was having way too much fun with New Moon to quit now.)

Openings are always rough on me (even when the original author has already done most of the work), so hope you'll bear with me. Hope you enjoy, and see you at the end! :J

* * *

Chapter 1: Balance

I sighed again, for about the twentieth time that afternoon.

I was sitting on the edge of my bed, an old crumpled-up piece of paper in my hand. It was covered in splotches of ink and half-finished sentences, crossed out so hard they left angry indents in the paper.

My eyes flickered down to the final line of the note, the only one that hadn't been crossed out.

 _Yeah, I miss you, too. Still doesn't change anything, though. Sorry._

— _Jules_

It was the nicest of everything there, which was still perfectly readable in spite of the crossouts. They all said basically the same thing—we weren't friends anymore, and we couldn't be.

I'd been expecting this response, when finally out of desperation I'd written a note and handed it off to Charlie to pass along to Bonnie to pass to Jules. After all, if Jules wanted to talk to me, she would just answer the phone when I called.

But somehow, it hurt a lot worse than I'd expected. Maybe because I knew behind the angry words and the distance she put up at the end that she was really having a hard time. I knew what it was like to be depressed, to be down, and she had been there for me then. It killed me I wasn't there for her to do the same. Especially when I was pretty sure that, if she was depressed, I was a big source of it, if not _the_ source.

My gloomy thoughts were interrupted as I realized that I smelled the stove burner downstairs. Someone was cooking.

My brows contracted as this new emergency penetrated my brain—in this house, for anyone to be cooking besides me was a Defcon Two situation. Leaping up from my bed, I quickly stuffed the note in my back pocket, then tore off downstairs.

I was immediately relieved to find the crime was still in progress. I took a second to assess for the most pressing problem, and spun in the direction of the microwave first. I yanked out the jar of spaghetti sauce—it had only been in there a few seconds, so no harm done.

"What?" said Chief Charlie Swan, my dad. "What did I do wrong?"

"First, metal and microwaves don't mix," I noted, untwisting the lid. "Plus you always want to take the lid off anyway, otherwise things have a tendency to explode. And, sometimes glass jars aren't such a good idea." As I spoke, I poured some of the sauce into a new container, with a microwave-safe symbol stamped on the bottom, then put it in the microwave and replaced the jar in the fridge.

Charlie watched my adjustments with a frown. "What about the noodles? Those okay?"

I went next to the stove, which had first alerted me to the situation. I peered down into the pot. I grabbed a spoon from the drawer and began working to pry off the mushy hunk that had been scalded to the bottom. "You might want to try stirring once in a while," I suggested.

Charlie sighed.

"What's going on here, exactly?" I said, suspicious.

Charlie didn't answer, only folded his arms and glared out the back window into the sheeting rain. "Nothing's going on. I just thought I'd cook for a change. Let you have a break."

I stared back at him. I didn't believe him. For one, Charlie didn't just wake up some days and decide to cook—I'd be shocked to learn if this wasn't his first time at a stove since I'd moved in close to a year and a half ago. For another, he seemed a bit out of sorts, and normally he didn't get like that at least until Edythe showed up for her daily evening visits.

When Edythe and the other Cullens had first gotten back from their few months in L.A., Charlie's general attitude toward Edythe had been glacial. We'd had more than a few heated conversations on that topic—although Edythe had said she planned to have a talk with him sometime that she hoped would warm Charlie's feelings toward the both of us, there had never seemed to be a good time. Though as I doubted she would be mentioning future premonitions of suicide or human-eating vampire governments, I had my doubts whether there was anything she could say that could make him understand.

"So," I said. "What's the occasion? Since when do you do dinner?"

Charlie grunted by way of response, then seemed to realize he was still in his police jacket from the station. He quickly pulled it off and went to hang it up next to his gun belt—he hadn't been wearing his gun belt the last few weeks, since the mysterious disappearances in the woods had stopped cold, and there had been no more sightings of mutant wolves.

He was evidently distracted by something, but I figured he would get around to saying it in his own time, so I busied myself trying to salvage the noodles, inserting the wooden spoon in between the clumps.

My eyes flickered back to the clock on the wall automatically. Just twenty-seven minutes left now. I'd lasted this long, I'd make it.

I was grounded. More than grounded, more like I was under house arrest. I'm sure if he could have, Charlie would have slapped an metal bracelet on my ankle that pinged if I strayed outside the acceptable zone. Not that I would dare to go anywhere other than school or work and then come straight home. It had been enough to face Charlie Swan's wrath once.

Charlie had always been pretty laid back about where I went and what I did, so long as I made sure to let him know what I was up to. But every dad had his limits, and for Charlie, his came when his son abruptly disappeared for three days, without explanation or so much as a phone number. However, his reaction to that had been fairly minor compared to when he had found out about the motorcycle.

Charlie Swan did not like motorcycles. He did not even like to hear them brought up in casual conversation. Hence, when he found out I'd been sneaking around riding one with Julie Black from down at La Push—my best friend who had turned informant on me—he'd been slightly more than just a little put out. My visiting hours had been severely cut down, from basically all afternoon to a short window of seven to nine-thirty p.m. Hence, Edythe would be here promptly at seven, and leave at exactly nine-thirty on the minute.

Course, fortunately we still had school, and Edythe and I had most of our classes together, not to mention Edythe snuck into my room almost every night so we could talk and just generally be together. Edythe didn't have the slightest problem scaling the wall through my second-story window, and it helped that she could read minds, to tell if my dad was ever coming.

I really couldn't complain about the few hours of separation, even if sometimes they seemed to drag on an eternity. There was no question I'd definitely brought all this on myself, and I wasn't about to be a turd and start making threats about moving out. Especially since a more permanent separation between me and my dad was looming ever closer on the horizon.

Charlie sat down at the table and unfolded the damp newspaper sitting beside his place. As soon as his eyes scanned the headlines, he frowned deeply and grunted with disapproval.

"This is why you're better off living in a small town," he said suddenly. "Stories like _this_."

"Something going on?" I asked conversationally as I took the bowl of sauce from the microwave and began trying to knife out the spaghetti into a bowl. I figured there was no recovering from the damage.

"Seattle," he said, grinding his teeth. "Five unsolved murders in the last two weeks. Can you imagine living like that?"

I shrugged. "I think Phoenix has a higher homicide rate than that." And in fact, I'd never once come close to dying until I moved here. I had quite a few close calls under my belt, of which Edythe could attest. At the moment, I was on at least two hit lists that I could think of.

"Think it's a serial killer or something?" I said. "Or gangs?"

"Could be," Charlie muttered, still frowning hard at the paper. "You couldn't pay me enough."

I speared a couple of clumps of spaghetti onto plates, then set them out on the table. We slathered some sauce on, then did our best to choke the stuff down. With enough sauce, it was almost edible.

Charlie's eyes continued to scan the newspaper headlines, so I reached over and picked up my copy of _Frankenstein_ , which I'd left on the table from breakfast, and tried to absorb myself in crazy scientists and monsters while I waited for him to work up the nerve to start in on what he wanted to say.

I was just to the part where Frankenstein and the monster finally sit down to have a conversation, when Charlie cleared his throat, and let the paper fall to the floor.

"You're right," he admitted. "I did have a reason for doing this. I wanted to talk to you."

I set the book aside; the binding was so worn that it slumped flat to the table. I folded my hands on the tabletop, giving him my full attention. "You could have just asked, you know."

Charlie nodded, looking a bit sheepish. "I'll remember that next time. Just thought it might be nice if you didn't have to cook..."

I smiled a little. "Thanks for the thought, Dad. But whatever it is, you probably might as well just spit it out now."

Charlie paused, then took the plunge. "I wanted to talk to you about Julie Black."

My aspect turned abruptly frosty. "Oh yeah?" I said, my eyes staring straight at the wall. "What about her?"

Charlie sighed. "I know you're still upset about the motorcycle, but I'm glad that she did what she did. It was the responsible thing to do."

I snorted. Responsible. Right. "So what about her?"

In spite of my careless tone, the question repeated itself in my mind, more serious. What about Jules? My former best friends who was now...what? My enemy?

Charlie eyed me warily. "Don't blow a fuse when I say this. Okay?"

"What?" I said suspiciously, almost positive that if he was going to these lengths, the chance that I _wouldn't_ blow up was probably zero to none.

"It has to do with Edythe, too."

I was silent. I was starting to see why he was so hesitant. Eight times out of ten, when Edythe was mentioned in conversation, we ended up in a argument. I'd have thought they might have bonded a little over their mutual hatred of motorcycles where I was concerned, but Charlie could be stubborn, and he still seemed to think it was a majorly bad idea for me to be seeing her again, after what had happened last winter.

"I've been doing some thinking," Charlie began. And suddenly, unexpectedly, he grinned.

"You've been taking all this pretty well. I don't think I know too many teens who'd put up being grounded this hard and this long with such good grace. So, I've been thinking it might be time to say you've served your time and call it good. Parole for good behavior."

This was definitely an unexpected turn in the conversation. I gaped at him, too shocked to react for a minute. "I'm...free?" I said, though I was unable to quite keep the suspicion out of my voice.

"There is a catch," he admitted.

I rolled my eyes. "Course there is."

Charlie put up a hand. "Just hear me out, kid. This is more like a suggestion than an actual rule. You're out of jail, but I'm hoping you'll use your freedom judiciously."

I eyed him, frowning. "Which means..."

He shook his head. "I know you're happy spending every minute of every day with Edythe Cullen—"

"I hang out with Archie, too."

"And Archie," he amended. "But you have other friends outside the Cullens. Or you used to. When's the last time you hung out with some of your school friends? Allen Weber? Or Jeremy?"

I paused. I had spoken to Allen just on Friday at lunch, but we hadn't hung out outside of school in an age. As for Jeremy...I couldn't remember the last time I'd spoken to him. Before Edythe had come back, my friends at school had kind of split off into two distinct groups. I liked to think of it as the Jedi Order vs. the Sith. Allen, his girlfriend Becca, and McKayla had all given me a break after I'd gone zombie when Edythe left. However, Logan was without a doubt Senator Palpatine, and he'd gathered around himself a following of evil apprentices, including Jeremy.

The line between good and evil had become even more distinct when Edythe had made her return. That had taken its toll on McKayla's friendship, though she still managed to be nice, but Allen had stuck with me through and through, and he even sat with Archie, Edythe and me at lunch every day, in spite of the fact that most people seemed to be naturally repelled by the Cullens and their indefinable aura of strangeness. He and Archie were almost starting to be friends. You couldn't help but like Archie, once you had the chance to get to know him.

"Beau?" said Charlie, calling me back to the present. "Last time you hung out with any of them?"

I shook my head. "I've been grounded. I haven't been hanging out with anyone."

Charlie nodded slowly. "That's fair." He paused. "There's also Julie Black."

I didn't answer.

"The two of you used to be thick as thieves, and now you don't even talk."

That wasn't exactly my fault, but I just shrugged. "What is it exactly you're wanting me to do to earn my freedom, Dad?" I said. "Just go ahead and say it."

Charlie sighed. "I don't want to make this complicated. You _are_ free—but bear in mind I'm trusting you to be responsible. Try to find some balance. Hang out with some other friends. Don't forget them—particularly Julie." He added, "She was a good friend to you when you were having a rough time of it."

"I know that," I muttered, almost defensively. My eyes drifted to the window above the sink. "But...it's not that simple."

"Don't you miss any of the old times?" he pressed, looking frustrated. "She's still your friend, isn't she?"

I didn't know how to answer. Of course I missed Jules, of course I still considered her my friend—but I couldn't exactly just come out and say she was part of a werewolf pack who absolutely loathed vampires, and wouldn't come near me as long as Edythe was around.

"I don't know," I said, staring at the table. "I don't think she wants to be friends."

Charlie gave me a stern look. "You're making assumptions. I have it on good authority she would rather be friends than nothing, and right now she's down in the dumps and could use a friend in the worst way."

I stared at him, my suspicions aroused. "What authority?" I wanted to know.

Charlie coughed, looking suddenly embarrassed. "The subject might have come up with Bonnie."

I groaned. Nothing was sacred when it came to parents' determination to meddle.

"Bonnie's been worried about Julie these days," he said.

I sighed as I tried to pry apart more congealed spaghetti. "I'll try, Dad. But if she really wants to talk to me, she hasn't acted like it. But I'll try to find some balance."

Charlie nodded. "Good. I trust you, Beau."

I scowled as I gave up trying to segment the monster and just speared the whole thing into my mouth. He always knew just how to get me.

"Oh, by the way, you've got some mail," Charlie said, abruptly changing the subject with no preamble. "It's by the stove."

I was probably as glad to put an end to the uncomfortable topic as he was, but I didn't move. My thoughts were still caught on Jules. I figured it was probably junk mail anyway, so I was surprised when, as Charlie got up to rinse his plate in the sink, he reached over and snagged the envelope, tossing it across the table to me. It skidded to a stop against my elbow.

"Might want to look at it," he said casually.

I swallowed the large lump in my mouth hard, eyes watering, then I picked up the envelope. I noticed the return address—University of Alaska Southeast.

"Huh. That was fast. Must have missed the deadline on that one, too."

Charlie chuckled, and when I turned the envelope over I saw it was already open.

"Really, Dad? Isn't that a federal crime?"

"Just read it," he said, chuckling again.

I pulled it out to find a folded schedule of courses.

"Congrats," said Charlie with a grin. "First acceptance."

"Thanks," I said, looking over the offered classes.

"We should talk about tuition," he continued. "I've been putting some money aside—"

"Don't even go there, Dad. That's your retirement. I've already got some saved up from working for the Newtons." Or I did, before I blew most of it getting a couple of motorcycles repaired.

Charlie shook his head. "You've really got to think about this, Beau. We're talking a lot of money here—these places can be pretty pricey. You can't tell me you can't use all the help you can get. You really don't need to banish yourself to Alaska just to save a few dollars when you're smart enough to go to a really good school."

In fact, Alaska was not cheaper than the average university, but it _was_ far away, and Juneau had an average of three hundred and twenty-one overcast days per year. That was better than even Forks for a vampire, which was vital if Edythe was going to go with me.

"I'm sort of set on Alaska. And it shouldn't be too hard to get loans, there's financial aid everywhere. I'll have to learn how to manage money sometime."

Charlie chortled at that. He probably knew I'd been in charge of budgeting in my house for my mom before I was out of elementary school. However, he suddenly broke off and gave me a beady stare. "So," he began. "Just how does Edythe feel about Alaska?"

This was a question I didn't want to answer. "Uh."

A light knock on the door saved me. I jumped up and Charlie sighed, grumbling to himself and frowning deeply at the wall.

I practically ran to the door, then paused there a moment, drawing in a steadying breath, taking a moment to compose myself so I wouldn't look as ridiculously eager as I felt. I really tried not to do the puppy dog look in front of Edythe, if I could avoid it. I finally opened the door, and there she was.

Edythe was as glorious as the first day I had met her—her pale skin as always could have been made from finest porcelain, her small, slight frame deceptively delicate. She was wearing her hair down today—her bronze hair hung down her back, shimmering slightly in the evening light as droplets of rainwater glistened in stray strands. Her perfect lips were curved into a smile. I let my eyes meet hers—and I saw they were a liquid gold.

I realized I was gawking at her, and I grinned a little sheepishly, embarrassed. I was glad, as I often was, that Edythe's mysterious power of reading minds didn't work on me. Being the one exception, a kind of freak, definitely had its advantages.

Edythe reached forward and took my hand, and though her touch was cold as ice, it sent an electric thrill through me, and I smiled.

"Hey," I said.

Edythe raised my hand and traced my knuckles with a cool fingertip, smiling. "Hey," she answered. "How was your afternoon?"

"Slow," I admitted.

Edythe laughed, a soft, musical sound. "For me as well."

She lifted our linked her fingers, pressing the back of my hand to the side of her face. She closed her eyes as her nose skimmed the skin of my wrist, where my blue veins stood out against my pale skin. She breathed deeply, taking in the scent, then sighed with content.

For some strange reason, my blood had always had a magnetic draw for Edythe, more than the blood of any other human she had ever come into contact with. From what I understood, the frenzied thirst it excited in her actually burned her throat, to the point of intense physical pain. Before, she used to try to maintain some space between us, sometimes even holding her breath so she wouldn't take in the smell, but now she often seemed to seek out the closeness, and draw in the scent of my blood.

It seemed faintly masochistic to me, and I sometimes worried about her, and the constant effort she was forced to exert just to be around me. However, I took some comfort in the fact that wouldn't be an issue much longer.

Edythe let my hand fall, though she kept her fingers twined with mine. "Shall we go inside?" she asked softly.

"I guess," I answered, reluctant. Inside was where Charlie was, and as much as I loved my dad, the deep freeze that always seemed to come over the house when he and Edythe were in the same room was not pleasant.

I heard someone clear his throat in the hallway, and turned to see my dad standing there, arms folded.

"Good evening, Charlie," said Edythe, ever flawlessly polite.

"Edythe," Charlie answered with a polite nod, but in a tone well below subarctic.

Edythe, still holding my hand, led me toward the kitchen, walking right past him with no apparent sign of discomfort.

"I brought another set of applications," she said brightly, and I noticed for the first time the manila envelope tucked under her arm. She reached into the pocket of her light gray jacket, withdrawing a roll of stamps on the way."

"You've got to be kidding," I muttered. I felt like I'd probably applied to just about every college in the country, and I was considering going to see Carine about the tendonitis I thought I might be developing. It was doubly unreal, considering how late in the year it was and most deadlines ought to have already passed me by. But Edythe seemed to have a knack for finding loopholes and places willing to make exceptions—apparently loopholes were easy to find when you had way too much money to throw around.

Charlie followed us silently into the kitchen and stood there in the doorway, the picture of disapproval, though he probably couldn't have chosen a better, more responsible activity himself.

I moved my copy of _Frankenstein_ to the counter, and Edythe and I sat down.

As though they had been having an ongoing conversation, Charlie said abruptly, "By the way, Edythe—speaking of college." His tone was civilized enough, but he stood with his feet spread apart, arms still folded aggressively. "Beau and I were just talking about it a minute ago. You have any plans for next year?"

Edythe smiled. "Well, I've received a few acceptance letters, but I'm holding off on making an absolute decision just yet. I'd like to take some more time to think about it."

"Where have you been accepted?" he asked, feigning a nonchalance that fooled no one.

Edythe pretended to be embarrassed. "Just a few places. Syracuse...Harvard...Dartmouth...and I also received an acceptance to the University of Alaska Southeast just today."

Charlie was momentarily shaken at this. "That's pretty impressive," he admitted reluctantly. He eyed her for a minute. "Ivy League. That would make Carine really happy."

"Actually, I'm leaning toward Alaska right now," Edythe answered. "The landscape is very striking there, and the area has a lot of atmosphere. I believe, and Carine agrees with me, the hardship of the extreme weather would be a good experience for me. Character shaping."

Charlie's eyes narrowed, and he looked suspiciously between the two of us.

"Hey," I said brightly, playing along. "That's awesome. Guess what—I got an acceptance to the University of Alaska, too."

Edythe turned, eyes wide with pretend excitement. "Really? Are you considering going there too, Beau?"

"Yeah, it was one of my first picks. What a coincidence."

She grinned. "It's almost uncanny."

Charlie scowled, obviously not fooled by the bit of playacting. "Well, fine," he muttered. "I'm going to go watch the game." He glared at me. "Nine-thirty, Beau."

I cleared my throat. "Hold on, Dad. What about what we talked about earlier? My parole for good behavior?"

Charlie blinked, remembering. He sighed. "All right," he grumbled. "Ten thirty then. It's still a school night."

Edythe looked suddenly excited. If I didn't know she could read minds, I wouldn't have suspected she knew anything. "Beau isn't grounded anymore?"

"Terms are conditional," he muttered, rudely squinting at a spot above Edythe's head rather than looking her in the eye.

"That's great news. Archie has been wanting to get out of town some weekend—guy stuff, you know—and he's been dying for someone to go with."

For some reason, Charlie looked alarmed at this. "No," he said abruptly. "Absolutely not."

"What now, Dad?" I said, giving him a strange look. Charlie didn't care for Edythe, but Archie he had always been fine with.

Charlie shook his head. "I told you about what's been going on in Seattle, murders every other day. I don't want you kids going anywhere near that place."

I snorted. "Dad, the chances are better I'll get struck by lightning than the one day I'm in Seattle I get offed by some random ax-murderer."

"Oh, no," Edythe said quickly, cutting in and looking earnest. "No, I wouldn't be comfortable with them going there either right now. I'm thinking they'll probably go to Portland."

I rolled my eyes. The idea of me being in danger from even the most psychotic serial killer when I was with Archie was a joke.

Charlie seemed to relax a little at this, though he was still frowning. "Fine," he muttered. Without any more ceremony than that, he turned and clumped from the kitchen to the living room to catch the game.

I waited until I heard the sound of blaring voices and commentators before I turned to Edythe. "What—" I began, but Edythe cut me off, shooting a meaningful look back toward the living room.

"I think you should be able to recycle your essays for this one," she said, pushing one of the applications in my direction. "The questions are about the same as the last one."

I figured Charlie was still listening in on us, and I focused on filling out the usual info. However, as I happened to glance at the name on the form, I suddenly snorted.

"Dartmouth? Seriously, Edythe?"

There was not a hint of a joke in Edythe's voice as she replied, "I think you might like New Hampshire. Plenty of night courses I could take, and there is plenty of forested area nearby for hikers." She smiled a little. "Of course I'd let you pay me back later, if that made you feel better. I can even charge you interest."

I grimaced. To get me into Dartmouth, I figured a lot of money would have to be changing hands under the table somewhere.

"No," I said. "Not happening."

Edythe sighed, and began gathering up the papers of the application. I was feeling triumphant until she said, "I suppose I'll just have to fill these ones out for you. You know I sign your name better than you do."

I stared at her in disbelief for a second, before I slowly shook my head. I glanced back toward the living room, then said in a low voice, "You're taking this way too far, you know. I don't need to apply anywhere else, I've already been accepted in Alaska. That's as good an alibi as any. We both know I'm not going to college—I won't be in any condition to be around other people."

I actually didn't know a whole lot about what my first few years as a vampire would be like. Edythe didn't like to talk about it. But I got the impression I would be completely wild, liable to go into a blood craze if I so much as saw a human. I figured I would be staying pretty much in seclusion until I was able to work up some self control.

"I thought the timing was still undecided," Edythe said lightly. "You might enjoy a semester or two of college. There are many human experiences you've never hand."

I raised an eyebrow, pressing my mouth into a firm line. "Sulpicia gave me until after graduation. I say the timing is pretty much set, unless you want to do it earlier."

"You let me worry about Sulpicia," said Edythe. "I doubt she'll be sending a delegation down here the moment you have your diploma in hand; there are just too many other things she has to deal with that are more pressing. You just worry about what's best for you."

"I want to get it over with and stop putting you all in danger," I muttered. I had already decided—I really didn't see much point in putting it off.

However, as I thought again of the set date, and realized it was really only a few weeks away now, I did feel a twinge of nerves in my stomach. Especially when I thought of the separation it would mean from my dad, and my mom, who was still shooting me emails begging for me to go visit her over the summer. And Jules...when I disappeared, even if I could keep communication up with my parents for awhile, Jules would know what it would mean. And she would be revolted by me.

I shook my head, trying to shake off the sudden gloom, but of course Edythe immediately read the consternation in my expression and she put a hand over mine. "There's no hurry," she murmured. "I'll keep you safe. You can take all the time you need."

I looked away from her, not wanting her to divine my thoughts. My wandering eyes fell again on the newspaper Charlie had been reading. The bold headline of the article he had been looking at jumped out at me.

 **DEATH TOLL ON THE RISE,  
POLICE FEAR GANG ACTIVITY**

Edythe's eyes dropped to study the paper, too, and her brow furrowed. Her eyes again rose up to mine, and her expression was serious. "So anxious," she said quietly. "Are you really so anxious to become a monster, Beau?"

I looked again at the headlines, and remembered Edythe's serious look when she had said she wouldn't have me in Seattle. It suddenly clicked together.

"Hold on," I began. "You don't think...these attacks in Seattle..."

"...are the work of a vampire," Edythe completed quietly. "Yes. The signs are all there—the unlikely disappearances, the poorly disposed of corpses, the lack of other evidence—we've been monitoring the situation for a few weeks now. We think it's a newborn, bloodthirsty and out of control, as we all were in the beginning. Normally it's the creator's responsibility to reign in neophytes and inform them of the rules, but clearly no one has stepped up in this case."

I stared down at the story, unable to look her in the eye. The names of the dead jumped out at me. Martin Gardiner. Georgina Campbell. Greg Razi. Mike O'Connell. Rosie Albrook. Five people with hope for the future, whose lives had been prematurely ended, in the most horrific way imaginable.

Edythe was watching me closely. "The existence of monsters results in monstrous consequences," she said quietly.

I shook my head, trying to shake off the shock of seeing those names. It was one thing to think about murder in the abstract sense. But having the names—names of individuals, as real as Charlie or my mom or Phil or any of my classmates at Forks—staring me in the face was something else.

"I won't be like that," I said in a low voice. "I'll have someone taking responsibility for me. We can live in Antarctica or something away from people and you'll keep me from doing anything I'll regret when I'm still...wild."

Edythe glanced away from me. "I hope so, Beau," she murmured, almost to herself. "I hope so."

After a moment of silence, Edythe's eyes returned to mine and, as though sorry to see me looking so troubled, she suddenly smiled.

"You realize if we go to Antarctica, the menu will be rather limited. Penguins, mainly." She made a face at the thought.

I couldn't help but smile a little at that. The Cullens considered themselves Vegetarian vampires, in that they drank the blood of animals to meet their dietary needs instead of human. However, some animals tasted better than others. They all seemed to like big predators best.

"Guess that puts us back to Alaska then. Maybe somewhere more remote than Juneau, though. There _are_ grizzlies in Alaska, aren't there?"

Edythe grinned. "Plenty. Polar bears, too, that will be different. And you wouldn't believe how large the wolves get there."

Before I could stop myself, I flinched and my gaze dropped.

Edythe noticed the tension immediately and she blinked, confused. Then her features cooled.

"Of course we don't have to hunt wolves, if you find the idea offensive." Her voice was stiff and formal.

I stared down at the table and didn't reply.

We were both silent for a long minute. At last I sensed Edythe relax. She reached over to put a hand on my arm, and leaned down so she could look up into my face. Her expression was gentle.

"I'm sorry, Beau," she said sincerely. "Really."

I sighed. "It's not you. I just...I guess I was just sort of already thinking about things before you came. With Jules, I mean."

I chanced looking up at Edythe. I usually tried not to mention Jules around Edythe if I could avoid it. Edythe's eyes always seemed to get a bit darker when she heard the name.

I felt compelled to explain, "Charlie told me she's having a rough time right now. And, well...I'm sort of the one who's to blame."

"You have absolutely nothing to feel guilty for, Beau," Edythe said, almost severely.

I shook my head. "I just feel like I should be trying to make things right. I can't just do nothing—I owe her. And anyway, that's part of Charlie's deal."

Edythe's eyes were flat, unyielding.

"Beau, you know it's too dangerous for you to be around any of the wolves, not without one of us there to step in if one of them loses control. And by the terms of the treaty, none of us may set foot on their land. For any of us to do so would mean war."

I couldn't immediately think of anything to say to that and my eyes dropped.

We were both quiet for a minute. When Edythe spoke again, her voice was light and I knew she was hoping to distract me.

"Well, I'm glad Charlie decided to finally put an end to your prison sentence. For one thing, I think you could use a visit to the bookstore." Her eyes were on the counter behind me, where I'd tossed my old copy of _Frankenstein_. "Look at that binding. Just how many times have you read it?"

I glanced back at the book, then shrugged stiffly. "A lot."

"What is it you like so much about it?" she asked curiously. "The characters are horrible. Frankenstein creates a monster and when it begs for its creator's love and understanding, he despises it instead. And the monster, bent on vengeance, becomes a real monster in the end. It's a story about hate."

Her sincere curiosity was enough to really distract me for a moment, and I considered the question seriously.

"I think that's the point," I said finally. "It's what happens when you let hate take over. After Victor created the monster, he hated it. The monster just wanted to be loved and understood by someone, but when Victor wouldn't help him, the monster swore revenge, and took everything away from him. Then Victor made up his mind to kill the monster in retribution and undo the mistake he made. It was just a downward spiral."

"And you find that appealing in a story," Edythe said, bemused.

I shrugged. "I guess it's like a warning what _not_ to do. In the end, they both ended up isolated and alone." I paused. "But, you know, even though Victor hated the creature until his final breath, the monster repented. He had remorse for what he did. So I guess Victor was the real monster."

Edythe was quiet as she thought about that.

I looked back up at her and sighed. She really did have a knack for distractions.

"La Push," I said abruptly, going back to the original issue. "Look, Edythe, it's really not as dangerous as you seem to think it is. I used to spend all day down there, and look—I'm still sitting here, whole and healthy."

Edythe shook her head. "Pure dumb luck," she muttered. "Are you saying you _never_ had any close calls? That nothing ever happened?"

I opened my mouth to repeat myself, that it wasn't dangerous, but the words got stuck in my throat as a collage of images flashed through my mind. A gray wolf, crouched to spring, dagger-sized teeth bared in my direction. Spasms shooting up and down a girl's spine, as she sat in a car right beside me. Long scars down the face of a young man, not much older than me...

Edythe interpreted my expression correctly. "Werewolves are volatile, explosive creatures by nature, especially when they're still young and haven't yet mastered their tempers," she said evenly. "Combined with their monstrous strength, they are exceedingly dangerous to be anywhere near. I have experience with them—I was here when Carine first settled here about seventy years ago, and when we first made the treaty. Even though we outnumbered them, it very nearly came to a fight, but Carine was determined we try to coexist peacefully. You're right, nothing happened to you while you were there—but I consider that a miracle."

I still wanted to argue. Even if Edythe had experience with the wolves in the past, she didn't personally know any of them now, and not Jules. It was different.

"We thought the power might have died with Elda Black," she mused. "That it might be gone entirely. But perhaps it simply skips a generation." Her eyes flickered to me. "Or maybe you are just a magnet for bad luck. Anything dangerous with in a hundred miles, you draw it out."

I frowned. "Hey, this one's not on me. The werewolves came back because the vampires did. But you knew that, right?"

On the contrary, Edythe went motionless with surprise.

I continued, "That's what Jules said. That your family coming here is what triggered the change."

"Is that what they believe?" she asked, eyes slightly narrowed.

I shrugged. "Well, you came here seventy years ago and there was a wolf pack. Then when you were gone there were no wolves, and now you're here again. You have to admit, it's more than a little coincidence."

Edythe blinked and relaxed. "Carine will be interested in that theory," she said mildly.

We were both silent for a long minute, Edythe gazing out the window into the rain. At last she said, "It makes little difference. You still cannot go there."

I gazed back at Edythe. I knew there was no use getting bent out of shape. Edythe wasn't being cold or heartless, she just didn't really understand. She didn't understand how good a friend Julie Black had been to me, just how much I owed her.

I'd always avoided discussing that cold, dark time with anyone, especially Edythe. When Edythe had left—told me the lies she had to make me think it was over—she'd only been trying to save me, from the constant danger of being around vampires, and save my soul from damnation. She'd hoped if I didn't entertain any lingering hopes, then I could move on and have a normal life. Instead, I'd fallen into a deep depression. I didn't in any way blame Edythe for that—looking back, I held myself responsible for most of the dumb things I'd done during that time. But Edythe blamed herself, and I could always see from the terrible pain in her face how deeply her regret run.

Still, this was important. She had to understand. I hoped I could word it in a way that wouldn't set her off into one of her self-recriminations again, but still communicate what I needed to.

I reached over and put a hand over hers, and she automatically turned her hand over to lace her fingers through mine.

"I know you're worried about me," I said. "About the risk. But you have to understand, Edythe. Right now, a friend of mine is really having a rough time. A horrible time. Back when it was the other way around, she was there for me all the way. I can't just sit here, I've got to do something."

As I'd known, the moment I alluded to that time, Edythe looked away, her entire body tensing, her eyes closed. The skin was buckled between her brows with pain.

"Such a mistake," she said softly. "A vile, thoughtless, cruel mistake. I could kill myself a hundred times over—if someone else had caused you half as much suffering and grief, I would have killed them already."

I put my other hand over hers, so both my hands rested over her delicate fingers. I could feel the tension in her arm, as though her self-loathing was a physical force.

"It's all in the past now," I said gently. "Ancient history. You're here now, and that's all that matters."

Edythe's eyes opened and she stared straight ahead, her mouth tight. Her remorseful gaze turned almost bitter. "No," she said in a low voice. "Because if it wasn't for what I did to you, you wouldn't feel this needless compulsion to put yourself in danger for the sole purpose of comforting a _dog_."

I flinched. I was pretty well used to the way Jules talked about the Cullens, and all her colorful slurs. _Bloodsuckers. Leeches. Parasites._ But for some reason, coming from Edythe's musical, velvet voice, there was a harshness about it that never failed to catch me off guard.

Edythe sighed. "I am sorry, Beau. Really. And I know I must sound cruel to you right now. But I just—I can't tolerate anything that will put you in danger. The thought of you being hurt—it's unbearable to me."

I shook my head. "You're blowing this way out of proportion. It's not like I'm marching off to war. I'll be fine."

Edythe was looking at me with something like desperation. Her golden eyes seemed to burn. "Always the same," she whispered, almost to herself. "Never any regard for your safety, never any conception of the danger."

Edythe was turned toward me, staring up into my face. Without warning, she leaned in close, and I felt her cool cheek against my neck. One of her hands came up, running once through my hair and then dropping down to my back to hold me to her.

"Do you have any conception, Beau?" she murmured. "How important you are to me? How much I love you? Please, Beau, I will do everything possible to ensure you safety, but I need your willing cooperation. Please."

"I will," I promised. "But I still have to see her sometime. I have to do something."

Edythe leaned back and looked me in the face, her expression earnest. "Then I'm afraid I'll have to stop you," she said softly. There was not a hint of doubt in her voice, and I knew which one of us was likely to get our way.

That wasn't going to stop me from trying.

I felt the weight of Jules's note in my pocket as though it suddenly weighed ten pounds. I heard the words in her voice, almost as though she was agreeing with Edythe—as though that would ever happen.

 _Still doesn't change anything, though. Sorry._

* * *

A/N: And, there's one down. Not a whole lot different this chapter, but Eclipse will require quite a few more changes down the road than New Moon did, for various reasons.

Thanks for reading, and for all your support! If you have a moment, let me know what you thought, and see you next time! :J

Posted 10/26/16


	3. Evasion

A/N: And—we're back. I had some vacation days left which I had to use before the end of the year, so I had some extra time this week, though some unexpected things came up so I didn't end up getting to this until now. (Plus, as far as my focus goes, it's been kind of an Avatar week for me.)

Thanks for reading so far! Hope you enjoy, and see you at the end! :J

* * *

Chapter 2: Evasion

I was in an unusually cheerful mood as we headed to the cafeteria from Spanish class. Freedom after months of lockdown sure tasted good.

I wasn't the only one walking on air. The entire school seemed alive with anticipation of the coming end of the school year, especially the seniors. Graduation was now in striking distance, and in case anyone had forgotten, there were colorful fliers blanketing every wall, reminding people not to forget to buy their yearbooks, class rings, and announcements, and included deadlines to order graduation gowns, hats, and tassels. There were also advertisements for the prom this coming weekend, but as Edythe had already made me go once, she was satisfied, and assured me we could skip it this year.

For me, the fast approach of the end of the school year was the one damper on my mood. In fact I felt nervous to the point of nausea whenever I thought about it, so I did my best to keep it from my mind.

Except when people insisted on talking about it. Which was about all the time.

When we arrived at our usual table, Archie, Becca, and Allen were already there. However, Becca took no notice—she seemed to be having some kind of breakdown.

"And I haven't even _gotten_ to the announcements yet," she moaned, wringing her hands and pulling at her hair. "My mom is making me hand-write the addresses. I had no idea we knew that many people. _And_ I still have to do everything else besides. She keeps saying it's good experience for the future—but that won't help me much if I don't _make_ it to the future."

"Don't worry, I'll help you," Allen said, ever the good sport. "I can help you write addresses for the invitations or something."

Becca spun toward him, eyes shining with a sudden flare of hope. However, it turned to worry. "But don't you have your own invitations to send?"

Allen shrugged. "Yeah, I have about ten thousand cousins. But my mom is doing them. She wants me to focus on my studies the last week. But I've been keeping up with the coursework all year, so I should have some extra time."

Becca squealed with joy and threw her arms around him. "You're the best, Allen!"

Becca noticed Edythe and I then, where we'd sat down next to Archie. She was looking slightly more cheerful. "What about you two?" she asked. "Have you done your invitations yet?"

Edythe dimpled. "All done."

I shrugged. "I'm not really doing any. My mom knows when I'm graduating, and I can't think of anyone else. I could come help you out, too, if you want. My handwriting's not that good, though."

Allen glanced at me, surprised. "Aren't you grounded?"

I grinned. "Just got out yesterday. I'm looking for any opportunity to get out of the house."

"Great," said Becca, really smiling now. "I can use all the help I can get."

"We'll have to celebrate," Archie inserted. "You, being free. The whole wide world is open to us. Don't worry, I'll come up with something _awesome_."

I grimaced. The way Archie defined _awesome_ and the way I defined _awesome_ were usually polar opposites. Awesome for Archie usually involved something extravagant and pricey, or else a lot of people staring at us. I had nightmares about stuff Archie considered _awesome_.

"You'll come, won't you?" Archie said, grinning as he turned to Allen.

Allen shrugged, smiling a bit. "Sure. Course."

"Maybe tonight," said Archie, already warming to the idea. "Let's see...what would be good..." His eyes scanned the cafeteria, as though looking for ideas.

"Hey," I said, determined to cut in before this could get out of control. "I was just let out yesterday. I don't need to be pushing my luck just yet. At least let's wait until the weekend."

"All right, all right," Archie said, unruffled. "The weekend. It's a promise."

Archie drew Allen into discussing possible options, something in Port Angeles, or even Hoquiam, and even Becca added her two cents in, after Archie made it clear she could come too if she wanted. However, I found myself drifting, and before long I shifted restlessly.

It would be nice to celebrate my new freedom somehow, maybe do something a little out of the ordinary, even a bit irresponsible, like a normal teenager would do. But I realized, even as I thought it, I couldn't deny to myself that there was someone else I'd like to do it with.

Every time Julie Black crossed my mind, I would think of that last expression I'd seen on her face, in the forest just outside my home. Her face drawn, her eyes tense with pain. I wanted more than anything to change that last memory, to replace it with a few more fun memories, like we'd had when we were palling around La Push and sneaking around to ride motorcycles behind my dad's back.

The problem with my newfound freedom was that it was incomplete. I could go anywhere I wanted—except for the places I most badly needed to go.

"Archie? What is it? Something wrong?"

The urgent tone in Allen's voice brought me back to the present, and I saw he was looking at Archie with something like concern. Archie had been talking animatedly a moment before, but now he had zoned out, his face blank and eyes staring straight ahead.

I felt my stomach contract—I knew that look. Archie was seeing something only he could see, events that had yet to occur. Events serious enough that they had suddenly seized all his attention.

I stared at him, feeling cold.

Edythe suddenly laughed, a very natural, relaxed sound, drawing Allen and Becca's attention. Archie jumped as though someone had kicked him under the table.

"I saw that look," Edythe said with a grin. "Not an idea for _another_ project? I think you might really want to go slow with Charlie, or you'll get Beau back under lock and key faster than you can say 'regrounded.'"

Archie grinned, and was completely back to normal. "Oh yeah, I just got a great idea. Ridiculously good. But—I'll leave it until after graduation." He winked at me.

Archie talked nonstop after that. I tried to catch Edythe's eye, but she didn't give any indication that anything was wrong, and she only traced the knuckles of my hand absently.

I hoped to get Edythe alone so I could ask her what was going on, but to my dismay, there wasn't an opportunity. I was suspicious, as it seemed almost deliberate—after lunch, Edythe slowed to talk to Becca about some assignment for another class, and every time between classes, there always seemed to somehow be someone else there. When the final bell rang, and Edythe casually struck up a conversation with McKayla Newton of all people, I was fairly sure something was amiss.

"...and I'm not sure what's wrong with it," McKayla was saying, as she replied to Edythe's flurry of polite queries. "My dad thought it must be the battery, so he replaced it just the other day, but this morning it did the same thing." Apparently McKayla was having some trouble with her Suburban.

"Hmm," Edythe said thoughtfully. "It could be the cables. You know, I learned a thing or two about cars from my brother Royal. If you like, I could drive down to your place and take a look at it. I'll call him, and I bet he could walk me through the fix, if it's something simple." Royal was supposed to be away at college with Eleanor at the moment.

McKayla looked positively terrified at the thought, and I couldn't blame her. She looked to me as though for some explanation for Edythe's sudden bout of friendliness, but I could only shrug in response.

"...Thanks," McKayla said hesitantly. "But I need to be getting to work. I'll probably just get it looked at down at Dowling's."

Dowling's was notorious for charging an arm and leg for repairs. There was an alternative I could have suggested, who probably knew more on the subject of cars than the people at Dowling's ever did—but all her time was taken up these days running around as a giant wolf.

McKayla was still looking weirded out as she turned and headed toward her car.

"Mind letting me in on the joke?" I asked as we got into Edythe's car—Archie was already there, waiting for us. "What was that about?"

"Just trying to help," she said lightly.

Once we were in the car, I didn't get another chance to speak, as Archie was talking a mile a minute.

"I don't really think you'd need Roy's help for a simple model like that one, Edy. Now, if it was an Italian sports car or something, you'd be out of your depth on the fine tuning. And speaking of sports cars—I think you still owe me a Porsche. Christmas is a long way away, you know. You haven't gotten me a graduation present yet, right?"

Archie kept going and there didn't seem to be an end in sight, so eventually I tuned him out and settled in to wait. Edythe might be avoiding my questions for now, but she could only keep from being alone with me for so long.

Edythe seemed perfectly at ease as she dropped Archie off in the usual place at the mouth of the Cullen's drive. "See you later," she called. However, I didn't miss the significant look Archie shot her way, and Edythe's answering nod—just the barest tilt of the head—before Archie turned and disappeared into the trees.

Edythe was quiet as she turned the car around and headed back to Forks. I waited to see if she would bring it up. She didn't.

I felt sweat break out on my palms. Something must be really wrong—or she would tell me, wouldn't she?

I'd been intending to grill her the moment I had the opportunity, but now I wasn't sure if it wouldn't be a good idea to mentally prepare myself first. I concentrated on going through worst-case scenarios—which did nothing toward calming me down.

Before I knew it we were back to my house, Edythe pulling up to the curb.

"Not much homework tonight," she commented. "Do you suppose Charlie would be terribly upset to find you had let me in the house without his authorization?"

I shrugged. "He can deal with it." I figured I could always go the extra mile with dinner to keep him happy.

Inside, I headed upstairs to my room and Edythe went to lounge on my bed, seeming oblivious to how edgy I was.

I turned on my computer first thing—I had an email from my mom I needed to answer. She tended to freak out whenever I took too long.

I folded my arms across my chest and glared at the screen as the decrepit machine groaned slowly to life, willing it to go faster. My fingers tapped restlessly against my arm, and I grumbled under my breath.

"Beau."

I turned at the sound of Edythe's lilting voice and saw she was sitting on the edge of my bed. Her golden eyes were glittering. "Come here a minute."

I wondered if she was going to tell me about Archie and this afternoon, and I hesitantly approached, going to sit beside her.

She leaned in so close I felt her chilly breath on my mouth, and for a moment everything that had been in my head a second before flitted out of it.

"Is it just me, or does someone seem a bit impatient today?" she murmured.

"Um." That was about as coherent as I could get.

She laughed softly. And before I could try to stutter out anything else, she pressed her lips to mine.

Edythe always had to be kind of careful around me. She had strength enough to crush an armored car with her bare hands, and the least distraction could mean the end of me. Consequently, that meant we didn't do a whole lot of making out—not nearly as much as I'd have liked, anyway.

So I was surprised when I felt Edythe wind her arms around my neck, pressing herself against my chest. Her skin was icy against mine, and I felt her fingers in her my hair.

An involuntarily shiver went down my spine at the chill, and I felt Edythe hesitate. I knew she was going to pull away in about two seconds, saying something about maybe we'd risked my life enough for one day, and so I latched myself to her as securely as I could, wrapping my arms around her waist, trying to keep her to me.

However, Edythe put her hands on my shoulders, and drew back gently without the slightest effort. Her eyes were bright with excitement, though she kept it rigidly contained, and she sighed.

"Beau," she said, with a touch of disapproval.

"I could say I was sorry," I offered.

"But then you would be lying," she noted. "I can't read your mind, but I know enough to tell you have zero remorse."

"Well, yeah," I admitted.

Edythe regarded me for a moment, then leaned in close, eyes half-lidded, her chilly breath on my face. I blinked, and for a second I couldn't remember my own name.

She paused, then turned slightly to breathe in my ear. "I think the computer's finished loading."

I blinked, then turned to find that she was right. Sighing, I reluctantly got up and headed back to the desk.

"Send your mother my greetings," Edythe called after me, relaxing back on my bed.

"Sure."

I scanned through my mom's email again, sighing now and again at some of her latest crazy stunts. My mom had always been a person of whim—as soon as a thought entered her head, she had a tendency to just act on it, without thinking things through. Consequently, I wasn't entirely surprised to hear a story where she'd made up her mind to go skydiving, only to get up there strapped to a parachute and a dive instructor only to suddenly remember she was paralyzed by heights.

To be honest, I was a bit ticked at Phil over that one. He had been married to my mom for almost two years now, he ought to have put a stop to it. I knew if that had been me out there, I would have talked her out of it long before it could get to that point. My mom needed someone to take care of her.

I shook my head. Old habits died hard, but I knew I had to let go sometime. Maybe Phil didn't do things the same way I would, but he was a good guy, and my mom would be fine. I had to let them go their own way, and I had to go mine.

My mom and I had always been on opposite ends of the personality spectrum. She flitted from one thing to the next like some ADD butterfly, getting ridiculously excited about something and throwing herself completely into it, only to drop it for something else a month or two later. I, on the other hand, didn't like to let impulse rule the day. I liked to think things through. And so, even as a kid I'd tried to keep my head on my shoulders enough for the both of us. My mom had always trusted me and my judgment.

I could feel Edythe's eyes still watching me from my bed, and my blood was still hot and pounding in my head from the kiss. I wondered what my mom would think about my upcoming marriage—she trusted me, thought of me as responsible. Yet here I was, getting married right out of high school, just like she had done. My mom didn't often reflect back on the rash things she had done throughout her life, but her early marriage was the one thing she had always talked about very seriously. She didn't at all regret it—as she often said, if she hadn't gotten married, she wouldn't have had me, and she wouldn't trade that for anything in the world. But she had always pounded into me that there was a difference between changing your mind about taking a Yoga class and breaking a lifelong commitment to another person. You simply shouldn't do it until you were ready.

My mom had never worried for a minute I'd rush into anything like she had, but now—now.

I grimaced. I would have to tell her sometime. But that was definitely a conversation I was not looking forward to.

I continued scanning the email, and began putting down answers to some of her questions, adding a few things about school and work. However, as my eyes came to the final line, I suddenly remembered why it was I had put off answering it before now.

 _You haven't mentioned your friend Julie Black in a while. What's she up to these days?_

I looked over what I had so far carefully, then went back and inserted my response between a couple of other more causal answers to draw less attention to it.

 _Jules is doing okay, I think. I'm not sure, I haven't seen much of her lately. She's been spending most of her time with some other friends._

I studied what I had written. Knowing my mom, she would suspect there to be a more involved story there than I was letting on—for all my mom's spacey ways, she could be surprisingly perceptive. However, I didn't see a way to make it any more nonchalant, so I left it alone and, after adding Edythe's greeting to the end, I sent it off.

I didn't realize Edythe had come to stand silently behind me until after I'd turned off the computer and turned in my chair.

"You're a good son," she said. "There aren't many teenage boys who would keep up contact so faithfully with his mother."

I grumbled something inaudible, embarrassed to think she'd been reading over my shoulder.

"You and your mother are close, aren't you?" she asked.

I shrugged. "I guess you could say that."

"I think that's nice." Edythe's eyes flickered to one side. She turned away for a moment to go to my closet. She bent to reach inside, and when she turned back, she was holding a flat black box with a collection of wires dangling from it like the legs of some horrible, mutilated spider. It took me a second to recognize the stereo I had gotten for my birthday from Eleanor, Royal, and Jessamine.

Edythe turned it over in her hands, examining it.

"It's dead," she noted, brow creased in a frown of dismay.

I winced. "Um, yeah."

"I'll have to replace it," she said with a sigh. "It would hurt the others' feelings if they saw this."

I remembered Jules's evaluation when she had seen the inside of my truck, and I admitted, "There's kind of a lot of damage in the truck, too."

Edythe looked away. "You really didn't get a lot of good out of your birthday presents, did you?" she said softly.

I didn't know what to say, and my eyes dropped to the ground. I wondered why Edythe was bringing this up now, of all times. I doubted this was the first time, after spending weeks in my room, she was noticing the destroyed stereo. I didn't like to think about my eighteenth birthday if I could avoid it—there were just too many painful associations. But normally Edythe was even more sensitive about it than I was.

"At least you could still put these to use," Edythe said, and very suddenly there was a slip of stiff paper in her hand. She held it up and glanced down at the front. "They're about to expire, though."

I recognized one of the other presents I had received. The voucher for airplane tickets to see my mom in Florida, from Carine and Earnest. They had given me two, one for me and one for Edythe.

"Oh yeah, I forgot about those." I had to work to keep my voice from going flat as the old memories tried to crowd in.

Edythe studied the voucher a moment longer, then suddenly beamed. "You know what, Beau? I have an idea. You've been wondering how to celebrate your new freedom. Why not this way?"

I blinked, startled. "You mean—go to Florida? _This weekend?_ "

"Yes," she said brightly. "What do you think?"

I frowned. "I thought I said I didn't want to do anything that would push my luck with Charlie."

"Charlie can't stop you from going to see your mother," Edythe pointed out. "She still has primary custody. In fact, you're an adult now—technically speaking, you don't need permission from anyone."

"Yeah," I muttered, "but I'm still going to be living here for awhile. And part of the deal getting off being grounded is he trusts me to be smart and judicious and everything about it. Finding out I'm flying clear across the country with my girlfriend...Trust me, we'll end up in a fight. And then I'll be grounded again."

I leaned over, studying the expiration on the voucher. "Let's give it a few weeks. Then I'll ask him."

I did want to see my mom—the idea of seeing her again not in a hospital or with me sitting in my room catatonic was suddenly appealing. But, I knew it was better not to let myself be impatient. There would be time enough to see her later.

"I think this weekend would ideal," Edythe insisted. "Things like this, it's best not to put them off. What if you wait, and you don't end up getting to it before graduation? It's coming up faster than you think. And I know you've been wanting to see her."

I hesitated, considering for a moment. Then shook my head. "We'll go, but not this weekend. It's just too soon."

"I've been hoping to meet your mother again soon, too," Edythe continued. Her eyes dropped to the mangled stereo, still in her other hand. Her delicate fingers curled, tightening around the torn wires. When she spoke, her voice was low.

"After last winter, I'm afraid she might have almost as bad an impression of me as Charlie. I've been a little anxious to try to rectify it, if I can. Since you've been grounded, I didn't want to bring it up, but now..." She trailed off, still staring down at the stereo.

I shook my head. "Don't worry about my mom. She's not like Charlie, I'm sure she doesn't blame you for anything. And even if she did, it doesn't matter what she thinks of you. It doesn't change anything."

"I would prefer the people you care about _not_ absolutely despise me, if at all possible," she answered quietly.

"You'll see her again soon," I said firmly. "Just—make an effort and be patient. Okay?"

She smiled a bit at that, but shook her head. "That's easy for you to say," she muttered.

I opened my mouth to repeat myself, but then I hesitated. I looked at Edythe carefully, studying her face. Was I imagining it, or was Edythe acting a little odd? Although Edythe had always claimed patience did not come naturally to her, from my perspective, she usually seemed like about the most patient person I'd ever known. It wasn't like her to keep pushing something like this after I'd already said what I thought.

"Let's just take the outside world slowly, okay?" I said at last. "Maybe we can go see a movie in—" I smiled a bit. "Seattle?"

Edythe's brow creased in a distinct frown. She made a sound of disgust at the back of her throat and folded her arms, glaring at me as if I were being deliberately obstinate.

"Because Charlie would be so approving of that." She muttered furiously to herself, "Of course you'd choose to go to a town with a murderous vampire picking people off the streets over seeing your mother."

I grinned a little. "Just kidding. I'm thinking more like Port Angeles."

Edythe's glowering expression didn't change, and I sighed.

"We'll go," I promised. "It's just the timing. We've still got some time before the tickets expire. We'll talk about it again soon. Maybe Archie can check ahead to see when a good time to talk to Charlie would be."

I was hoping for a change of subject—I was tired of arguing with Edythe. And as I mentioned Archie, I suddenly remembered my worries from earlier. I couldn't believe I'd nearly forgotten.

"But, hey," I said. "That reminds me—earlier today. I was going to ask. What did Archie see at lunch?"

As I spoke, I kept my eyes fastened to Edythe's face, carefully scrutinizing every detail for some reaction.

However, there was nothing secretive or wary in her frown. "Oh, that. He's been seeing Jessamine in a strange place. It's somewhere in the southwest, near her former...family. She doesn't have any conscious intentions to go back there, though. Archie's been worried about it."

"Oh," I said, eyes flickering to the ground. I was embarrassed I'd been suspecting the two of them of intentionally hiding things from me. The distracted, serious look on Archie's face made sense now, and even his almost stressed, non-stop chatter. Jessamine was his soul mate, his other half, and he was always looking out for her.

"I didn't realize you'd noticed that," Edythe said. "Or I would have told you. You haven't been worrying all this time, have you?"

"No," I muttered, looking away, feeling the heat crawling up my neck. "No, I was just wondering."

We went downstairs to work on our homework, just in case Charlie came home early. Edythe had hers finished literally in minutes, leaving me to slog through my calculus. After that, I went to start on dinner. I decided to go for stroganoff tonight, from an old family recipe. I thought it might keep Charlie from getting too sullen when he came home and discovered Edythe here.

However, Charlie seemed to already be in a good mood when he got back, and his tone almost bordered on actually good-natured when he greeted Edythe on the way in.

He shoveled down three helpings of the stroganoff before he leaned back in his chair, folding his hands across his stomach and looking satisfied.

"That was great, kid. You really should think about going into culinary in college."

I ignored the college part, and said, "Thanks, Dad. So—how was work?" Charlie had been so focused on the food, there hadn't really been a chance for conversation.

He shrugged his shoulders. "Slow day today. Played cards a good part of the afternoon with the other deputy." He grinned a bit. "Won nineteen hands to seven." He paused, then added, "Oh, and then I was on the phone with Bonnie."

I went still for a second, but I kept my face composed. "How's she doing?" I asked casually.

"Just fine. Her joints are acting up again, I think."

"Sorry to hear that."

Charlie continued with some animation, "She's invited us down to visit this weekend. The Clearwaters and the Uleys will probably be there, too. Sort of a playoff party."

"Huh," I grunted, eyes on the wood grain of the table. There wasn't much else to say. I knew Edythe would go through whatever contortions she had to to keep me from getting within ten miles of an event involving werewolves, so there wasn't much point acting excited.

Without looking him in the eye, I got up from the table and started clearing away the plates. I dumped them in the sink, and got the water going. Edythe was at my side a second later, dishtowel in hand.

Charlie sighed, apparently giving up for the moment, though I knew that this wasn't going to be the end of the subject by a long shot. He heaved himself to his feet with a grunt and started for the living room, to watch whatever game was on.

"Oh, Charlie?" Edythe said, her tone polite and conversational.

Charlie paused in the middle of the kitchen, and half turned back. "Yeah?" he muttered, not fully looking at her.

"Did Beau ever mention that my parents gave him airplane tickets on his birthday? So he could visit Renée in Florida."

I banged my elbow against the side of the sink, and one of the plates I'd been washing slipped from my hand, glancing off the edge of the counter and clattering to the floor, splattering the three of us in soapy water.

Charlie didn't even seem to notice. "Really?" he said, turning to give me a startled look. "Is that true?"

I tried to keep my eyes on the plate as I bent down to get it. "Yeah," I said, trying to keep my voice casual, even as I felt my throat close with sudden nerves. "Yeah, they did."

"They're about to expire," Edythe continued. "I think it might hurt their feelings if they weren't used, not that they would say anything."

I gaped at Edythe, incredulous at this sudden bout of audacity.

Charlie relaxed. "I guess that would be a good idea. You haven't had a chance to see her in a while, have you?"

I stared into the sink.

"I'm surprised you didn't mention it before," he said. His eyes went to Edythe, and he added, suddenly suspicious, "When you say, 'they're about to expire'...exactly how many tickets are we talking about here?"

"Just two," Edythe said calmly. "One for Beau...and one for me."

Again another plate slipped from my grasp, this time falling into the sink. The dead silence that followed this admission had the blood rushing to my face, and I tensed for whatever was about to follow.

"I see," Charlie said flatly, and I could feel his glare against my shoulder blades. I stared fixedly down at the dirty water in the sink as silence filled the kitchen.

"Beau," Charlie said at last into the tense silence, his voice low and dangerous. "Could you come in the living room a minute?"

I could feel heat crawling up my neck, and I was suddenly irritated at his tone. I glared down at the water. "Whatever you have to say, Dad, you can say in front of Edythe," I said evenly.

Another tense silence followed.

"You're not going," he said abruptly. "That's my final word." I heard the clump of his feet as he turned back in the direction of the living room.

Something about Charlie's authoritative, that's-the-end-of-this-discussion tone always seemed to raise my hackles.

I threw down the washrag and spun to face him. "Why not?" I demanded. "You said I'm not grounded anymore, so what's the problem?"

Charlie turned back around, his arms folded, legs spread apart and shoulders squared, looking like a raging bull ready to charge.

"I don't see what the problem is," I repeated, and I knew my tone was anything but diplomatic. "I can go see Mom if I want to. And the tickets are going to expire."

Charlie glared at me. "You alone I don't mind—but you should know why this is unacceptable. I thought you were more responsible than this, Beau."

"I don't see what the difference is," I insisted, feeling my ears turning hot. "Earnest and Carine gave me tickets so I could see my mom and she could get to know Edythe better. It's not like we're flying off to stay at a hotel in Vegas. Mom is going to be there the whole time."

I turned back to the sink and yanked out the plug. "There's no reason to get bent out of shape about it," I said stiffly as the filthy water was sucked down into the drain.

Charlie was eying me with deep suspicion. His face was red, like he might be about to explode—but then he grunted to himself and turned away, and I could tell the argument was over.

"I finished my homework, so I'm going out," I called after him. "I'll be back before ten-thirty."

Charlie half turned back, glare suddenly back in place. "Where?" he demanded.

I shrugged. "Don't know. I'll stay within ten miles."

Charlie's expression was far from approving and, grunting again, he turned back toward the living room.

"We're going out?" Edythe asked, her angelic voice low but excited.

I turned to give her a withering look. "That's right," I muttered. "I think you and I need to have a talk."

Edythe didn't look in the least apprehensive, and she had a little triumphant smile on her lips as she led the way out to her car. When we were both inside, I sat in mute silence, glaring out the windshield.

Edythe began the conversation. "I suppose you think that was a bit meddling on my part," she said. Far from being properly penitent or abashed, she sounded pleased with herself.

"I can't believe you did that," I said irritably. "Especially after I specifically said I wanted to wait."

"I know you've been wanting to see your mother, Beau," Edythe said softly. "Maybe more than you realize. You've been mentioning her in your sleep."

I flushed and looked away. It annoyed me to no end, my tendency to gab in my sleep.

"Now, it really wasn't as bad as you expected with Charlie, was it?" she continued. "You were going to have to talk to him sometime, I thought it might as well be sooner as opposed to later."

I eyed her suspiciously. "Be honest. This sudden fixation with getting me to Florida doesn't have anything to do with the thing at Bonnie's, does it?"

Edythe's eyes turned a touch cooler. "Nothing whatsoever. Whether you were here or on the other side of the world, you wouldn't be going."

I stared hard out the windshield, and I felt the heat crawling up my neck, just as it had a moment ago with Charlie. It was funny, how similar Edythe's tone was to Charlie's right now. That touch of overbearing parental authority.

Edythe sighed, and when she spoke again, her voice was light and gentle. "So what do you want to do?"

I shrugged, still a bit hot under the collar. However, as I glanced at Edythe's earnest expression, I couldn't keep it up, and I sighed. "I haven't seen your house in a while."

Edythe smiled as she put her car into gear. "My house it is."

* * *

We made it back by ten-twenty. I didn't want to push my luck with Charlie any more than I already had, and I had a feeling he was really going to read me the riot act as soon as I got in. Sure enough, as Edythe pulled up to the front of the house, I saw the lights in the living room were still on.

"See you upstairs later," I said glumly. "If there's anything left of me."

"Don't worry, his thoughts are relatively calm," Edythe said, smiling. Her eyes glittered with some hidden amusement, and I wondered if there was some joke I was missing.

The television was turned up pretty loud when I got inside, and I briefly considered trying to sneak past him.

"Could you come in here a second, Beau?" Charlie called, voice gruff.

I mentally sighed and turned toward the living room. I stood uneasily in the entrance, one hand resting on the frame.

"Yeah, Dad?" I said. I hoped my light, non-confrontational tone would suck some of the fire from the coming earful I knew I was probably about to get.

"Have a nice time tonight?" Charlie asked, voice surprisingly almost as conciliatory as mine. However, there was something else in his gruff tone—almost like embarrassment.

"Yeah," I said cautiously. "We hung out with Archie and Jessamine at the Cullens. Edythe and Archie played chess, and I tried playing against Jessamine, but she beat me in six moves."

I almost had to laugh as I remembered Edythe and Archie playing. From my point of view, it looked like they did nothing but sit there, staring at the board, as Archie foresaw Edythe's moves and she read what he was going to do in his mind. After about three minutes of concentrated silence, Archie had finally knocked over his king and surrendered.

Charlie nodded distractedly, then reached over and hit the mute button on the television. I hadn't seen him do that very often, and I didn't think it could bode well.

"Come sit down here a minute, would you?" he asked.

I entered the room, going slowly and gingerly as if I'd just stepped onto a mine field. When I reached the armchair, I slowly lowered myself into it, sitting on the very edge.

"There's something we need to talk about," he said abruptly.

"Yeah?" I surveyed him carefully, for once wishing that I possessed Edythe's power to read minds, so I'd know what exactly to brace myself for.

Charlie twiddled with the remote, still looking uncomfortable. "I know you're getting to that age now, kid," he said at last. "That's natural. But seems like you and her are getting pretty serious and, well, there are some things you're going to have think about. My advice is, whatever you do, be prepared to take responsibility for it. It's not a game."

I stared at him, his face tinged slightly red, and though he was completely beating around the bush, I knew where he was going with this.

"Dad," I groaned, putting a hand to my head where I felt a headache forming as heat rushed to my face. "Seriously?"

Charlie glared at me, suddenly in parental-authority mode again. "You are going to sit and listen to this, and you're going to be mature about it."

"Mom already talked to me about all this stuff, Dad, I already know."

"But you didn't have a girlfriend back in Phoenix, did you?" he challenged. He raised his eyebrows at me, waiting.

"No," I muttered. "But I'm good, I promise."

Charlie hesitated. This obviously wasn't his favorite job in the world, and he seemed almost as eager to drop the subject as I was. He shifted uncomfortably where he sat.

"Just be responsible," he said at last. "That's all I'm asking. Whatever you do, think about the consequences beforehand."

"You don't have to worry about that, Dad," I muttered. "Seriously. Edythe is probably about the most responsible person in the world." By now, my face was probably approximately the color of a stoplight.

Charlie's red face was suddenly stern again. "This isn't her responsibility, it's yours. Because if you mess up and she gets pregnant—" I visibly grimaced, and wished the floor would open up and swallow me— "she's the one who's going to be left holding the bag. And it won't just be Earnest ready to kill you."

I folded my arms across my chest, feeling suddenly surly. "Seriously, Dad, there's nothing to worry about. We're not like that. I can't believe you're making me say this, but...I really do _care_ about Edythe, and I'd never do anything to hurt her."

We both sat there a minute, tense and uncomfortable, with the touchy-feely direction this conversation had taken. In both our books, discussing our feelings on about anything definitely ranked more awkward than talking about sex.

"Can I go to bed now?" I asked at last.

Charlie sighed, and he seemed relieved to have the conversation over with. "Sure, kid, but one last thing."

I grumbled to myself.

"How's the balance thing coming along?" he wanted to know.

I relaxed slightly, and shrugged. "I kind of made some plans with Allen. We're going to help his girlfriend get her graduation announcements done, she's got a lot of things she's been stressed out about."

"Great," said Charlie, looking pleased. "What about Julie and La Push?"

I sighed. "Still not sure about that one."

"Just keep at it," he encouraged. "I know you'll do the right thing, kid."

I grimaced. In other words, if I didn't figure out how to work things out with Jules, then I was a failure.

"Sure, sure," I muttered, though I had to smile as the phrase made me think of Jules, and the way she always said it to her own parent in the same patronizing tone.

Charlie grinned at me, then turned the sound on the television back on. He relaxed back into the couch, apparently happy with the night's work. "Night, kid. Don't stay up too late."

"I won't," I answered as I turned and headed upstairs.

Naturally, Edythe was gone, possibly out hunting or something to pass the time, and she wouldn't be back until Charlie was asleep. From the looks of him, I doubted he was going to bed anytime soon.

I stood by my desk, rapping my knuckles on the wood surface in no particular rhythm as I tried to figure out what to do with myself. I was too wound up to read or listen to music. I could write an email to my mom, telling her I was coming to see her this weekend, but I sort of wanted to tell her that over the phone, and as it was three hours later in Florida than here, she was probably sound asleep at this hour.

Normally, I didn't mind being on my own, but strangely I was in the mood to talk to someone. I wasn't about to go back downstairs to hang out with Charlie, as there was the danger he might think of some other topic of sex education he'd forgotten. If it had been earlier in the evening, I might have thought about calling Allen up to go hang out somewhere, maybe the library—but it was way too late for that.

As I stared out the black window into the night, and what Charlie had said a few minutes ago drifted back to me, I suddenly knew exactly who it was I wanted to see. Whose current state had been a constant worry at the back of my mind, and who I didn't feel uncomfortable dropping in on anytime, anywhere.

I stood there in the middle of my room for a minute, debating with myself. I had probably an hour before Edythe would be back. Edythe would be furious with me—but she was really only worried about my safety, and on that count, she was being way overly cautious. My dad was right, it was the right thing to see Jules, and patch things up. I had to replace that last memory of the pain twisting her face with her usual bright and cheery smile.

I raced downstairs, jumping down the steps two at a time, seizing my jacket from the rack and forcing my arms through the sleeves in record time. It was late, but I had a feeling Charlie would be behind me when he knew where I was going.

Charlie heard me in the hall, and he turned to look at me, frowning with suspicion.

"Mind if I just take a quick trip down to La Push?" I said in a breath. "Won't be gone more than a hour. Probably three-quarters."

Charlie relaxed. He smiled widely at me. "Sure thing, kid. Stay as long as you want."

I flashed an appreciative grin. "Thanks a lot, Dad." In a second, I was out the door.

My eyes scanned the shadows as I darted to my truck. I felt like a criminal, and I looked around again, but of course it was so pitch black I couldn't see much of anything. I had to feel my way across the truck door to find the handle.

My eyes were just beginning to adjust when I shoved the keys into the ignition. However, instead of the familiar loud roar of the engine, I only heard an odd clicking noise. I twisted the keys back and tried again, but still it didn't start.

Something moved in my peripheral vision, and I jerked, my heart hammering in my chest as I realized I wasn't alone in the cab.

I turned to see Edythe sitting in the passenger's seat, still as a statue, her white skin glowing faintly in the darkness. Her eyes were staring down at something in her hand, a small black object I couldn't make out in the nonexistent light.

"Archie called," she said softly.

I mentally cursed. I'd forgotten about Archie. Obviously Edythe had him watching me.

"Your future abruptly disappeared a few minutes ago."

I stared at her, my heart still pounding, eyes still too wide.

Edythe continued, "If you remember, Archie can't see the wolves. When you decide to mingle your fate with theirs, you disappear, too. Can you understand why that might make me a little...anxious? Archie saw you disappear, and he couldn't see whether you would come home or not. For those few minutes, your future was a blank. Lost."

Edythe leaned back slightly. "We still don't know why that is. A natural defense they have against us?" She seemed to be talking more to herself now, and she idly twirled the piece of my truck in her delicate fingers. "But of course, I can read their thoughts, so they aren't protected against my power. Carine said the explanation might simply be that they are so unpredictable...Their transformations come about as the result of their unchecked passions, and it's more an involuntary reaction than a decision. So their futures are always in a state of being completely undecided, and so impossible to foresee..."

I stared out the front windshield as she spoke, listening to her musing with stoney, unyielding silence.

"Your truck will be in perfect running order again tomorrow morning, in time for school," she said. "In case you'd like to drive yourself."

I didn't look at her as I tore the keys from the ignition and got out of the truck.

"You can shut your window if you'd like me to stay away tonight," she said softly, just a second before I slammed the truck door behind me.

I stormed back into the house, and the door rattled in its frame as I slammed that door, too.

"What happened?" Charlie demanded, sitting up and looking around.

"Truck won't start," I said in a hard, flat voice.

"Want me to take a look at it?"

"No, I'll try it in the morning."

"You can take the cruiser if you want," Charlie said, half standing up from the couch as though to retrieve the keys.

I was to the stairs by now, and I paused reflexively at this. I wasn't supposed to go around driving a police car when I wasn't an officer. My dad must really want to get me down to La Push—I wondered just how depressed Bonnie had said Jules was.

My fist clenched at my side. "No thanks, I'm tired," I grumbled through gritted teeth. "Night."

I stamped up the stairs, and made a line straight from my window. I seized the frame with both hands, then shoved it closed with all of my strength. The metal collided with the side with a crash, and the glass trembled.

I stared at the dark glass for a long minute, breathing hard, my arms folded across my chest, until at last the glass settled and all was still. Then, with a sigh, I reached over and opened the window back up as wide as it would go.

* * *

A/N: I remember back when I was first working on the rough drafts for New Moon really looking forward to getting to this particular scene at the end. (Sometimes Edward/Edythe seem so perfect, it's nice to see their flaws come to the fore once in a while.) Not exactly sure when next chapter will be, looking over it there are some sections that still need quite a bit of attention. But, hopefully not too long.

Thanks so much for reading—if you have a minute, let me know your thoughts, and I'll see you next time! C:

Posted 11/10/16


	4. Motives

A/N: Back yet again. We had a great holiday; we had a lot of family visiting from out of town and got to spend a lot of the week together. C: (Though unfortunately, I was working part of the time. x3)

I guess it's only been about three weeks since the last chapter, but somehow it feels longer than that.

Thanks for reading so far, see you at the end! :J

* * *

Chapter 3: Motives

I gazed out the side window of Edythe's Volvo, at the gray blanket of clouds hovering overhead. They were so thick it was impossible to tell if the sun had set or not.

After spending the last half of the day in a plane, chasing the sun westward, it felt odd—like we'd crossed over into a zone where time was standing still. I was a bit surprised when the thick forest lining the road on either side of us finally gave way to the first buildings, signaling we were just about home.

I felt Edythe reach over and take my hand, her cool fingers sliding over top of mine.

"I thought it went pretty well, didn't you?" she said softly.

I shrugged. "Yeah, I guess so. She seemed to take to you well enough. But I knew she would."

Edythe had actually met my mom once before—when I had supposedly tripped and fallen down a flight of stairs at a hotel, and was in the hospital with a multitude of lacerations and a few broken bones. But considering this was the first time she had met my mom after the disastrous events last winter when Edythe had left Forks, she had been anxious how my mom would react to her. I had known she was worrying over nothing, and I'd been right.

Edythe turned her eyes to meet mine, and I knew it was useless to tell her to keep her eyes on the road.

"I suppose it was hard for you to leave," she murmured. "Being with your mother again...it must have made you think of old times. Your old life. She was certainly thinking about it."

I nodded slowly. However, at Edythe's concerned expression, I felt I had to add, "The life I have here in Forks is my life now. That's how I want it. My mom is really the only thing I miss about my old life. But she's okay without me—she's got Phil."

I shook my head and smiled a bit. "To be honest, I'm glad we kept the visit short. She was making me kind of nervous. My mom might seem totally clueless a lot of the time, but she can be sharper than she looks. She...sees things. Notices things."

Edythe nodded. "She has an interesting mind, your mother. Childlike in some ways, but undeniably insightful in others."

I nodded absently, still gazing out the car window. Edythe was definitely right about that.

Phil had been busy while we'd been there, the high school baseball team he coached being in the playoffs, and so most of the weekend it had just been the three of us, me, Edythe, and my mom. It hadn't taken long after my mom had finished exclaiming with delight and squeezing the life out of my lungs for her to start seeing things, falling into some of her rare pensive silences as she studied us, and before long I was apprehensive of whatever was going through her mind.

It wasn't until this morning she had finally said some of what she was thinking. We'd set out for a walk along the beach—Edythe had fabricated a term paper so she'd have an excuse to stay indoors during the day, and she stayed behind, also offering to get breakfast ready for us when we got back, so it was just the two of us, just like old times.

The bright sun was shining in a clear blue sky, and though it was morning it was already so warm that we tried to keep close to the slender shadows of the palm trees, which swayed lightly in a gentle breeze. The humidity made it hard to breathe, but the warmth was a welcome change from the dreary cold and rain I was used to. As we walked, my mom pointed out the glorious sights of the warm beach and lazily rolling ocean waves, and I figured she was still holding out hope to tempt me back from Forks. However, I knew her well enough to know there was something else on her mind.

We meandered around aimlessly for a while, just enjoying the warmth and the sights, until my mom finally wound her way around to the point.

"Beau...there's something I've been meaning to talk to you about. Before you go back to Forks, I mean."

"What about, Mom?" My hands were in my pockets, and my gaze followed hers, which was directed out at a buoy bobbing in the distance.

She turned back to look at me, and her brow was crinkled above her wide blue eyes. "I'm concerned about you, Beau. You and Edythe. I guess...I just didn't quite realize how serious this was."

I glanced away. "Mom," I muttered. "Come on." I wondered if now she was planning to give me a lecture on responsibility, too. My mom had always been pretty candid about things like intimacy and sex, even though I hadn't always exactly welcomed it, but somehow actually having a girlfriend now made it more embarrassing. However, the funny thing was, I didn't think Edythe and I had done anything particularly telling over the weekend. We had barely even touched.

My mom smiled a little, as though she knew the kind of responsibility lecture I was thinking about and wanted to laugh at me. However, her expression turned serious again.

"What I mean is, Beau, when I see the two of you together...there's just something unusual about it, that's all. I've seen my share of teenage girls head-over-heels in love—heaven knows, I've been one myself. But your Edythe is different from any other girl I've ever met. She's very mature, definitely not the giggly type. But the way she watches you...follows you...I keep getting this feeling like all the thoughts in her mind are oriented around you, always calculating how to ensure that you are safe, and that all your endeavors succeed."

I didn't quite meet her eyes. "I don't know if it's that extreme, but Edythe has always supported me. I don't see anything bad in that. I want to try to support her, too."

My mom shook her head. "No, I wouldn't call it bad...it's just unusual. There's such an intensity about it. Not just her, but you, too—I can tell, Beau, you're very serious about this girl. You've changed in that short year and a half since you lived with me. You seem more sure of yourself."

"Really?" This honestly surprised me. If anything, I'd always thought being around Edythe had only increased my feelings of inadequacy. Then again, she was probably right—before I met Edythe, I just kind of drifted through life, not really sure what I wanted, or if there was really anything _to_ want. Now I knew exactly, and I was ready to pursue it to the end.

My mom nodded, then sighed. "I don't know how to say it—like I said, when I see you two together, I see such an intensity. I feel like I can't get a grasp on your relationship." She paused for a minute, thoughtful. She added, slowly, "I...keep getting this odd feeling. Like I'm looking at a puzzle, and I'm missing some critical piece of it."

I tried to think of how to reply. Somehow I always forgot just how perceptive my mom could be. I guess something about the simple way she saw the world allowed her to cut through all the distractions and get right to the heart, and at the moment she was dancing, just on the periphery of the truth. She was able to see something other people missed—that there was something strange about us. That there was a secret beneath the smokescreen of normalcy we did our best to project.

At last, I shoved my hands into my pockets and smiled a little. "Well, it's true that Edythe isn't like any other girl, Mom. There's nothing weird about me falling hard for her." I added, "As for her choosing me, I'm still trying to figure that one out myself."

My mom laughed, linking her arm through mine and ruffling my hair. "Well, that's not a mystery. My handsome, hardworking, responsible, loyal son. You're quite a catch."

Her brow furrowed again for a moment, studying my face.

I looked back at her, not allowing myself to blink, carefully controlling my expression.

After a moment, her face relaxed. "I'm probably imaging things," she decided. "Maybe I've just forgotten how extreme teenage love can be. I am getting quite along in years now."

I laughed, relieved, but I was surprised to feel just a twinge of disappointment, too. Not so long ago, I'd been closer to my mom than to anyone else in the world—close enough that I knew pretty much all of her secrets, and she had so mastered the art of reading my face that she pretty much knew most of mine too, or at least the important ones. Now, she had hit upon something actually dangerously close to the truth. While I knew she could never be allowed to know, for her own sake as well as that of my soon-to-be new family, I felt just a bit of a letdown, at how quickly she talked herself out of her keen thoughts.

"You're not old," I said. "You're what—thirty-eight now?"

"Thirty-seven," she said, trying to hold back a smile and not quite succeeding.

"Right," I said, grinning. "Young enough to still have kids."

She looked startled for a moment, before her expression shifted to a look that was somehow simultaneously delighted and terrified.

"Oh no," she said quickly. "No, we—that is to say—I think one perfect son is more than enough...I mean..."

She trailed off, and was flustered enough she had forgotten all about her embarrassment over her earlier speculations. I smiled, satisfied. My mom was easy to distract, and I had a particular knack for it.

We talked some more about Jacksonville, my mom teasing me again by grandly pointing out the glittering white sands and deep blue ocean waves gently lapping the shore, and dropping a few sly disparaging remarks about climates with more rain than sunshine. I made a few deft counterstrokes about the humidity and the rising prices of sunscreen. We both laughed and joked like old times as we headed back to her car.

Other than her vague worries about me and Edythe, my mom seemed happy enough, which I was glad of. She seemed happy with Phil, doing things she wanted to do and enjoyed. I hoped that meant she wasn't missing me too much.

The gentle touch of Edythe's icy fingertips against my cheek brought me back to the present. I sat up, and was surprised to see we were already in front of Charlie's house. The porch light was on, and the cruiser was parked in the driveway. I saw the curtain in the window twitch, casting a line of yellow light across the dark lawn. Apparently Charlie was waiting up for me. I wondered if I should mentally prepare myself to get reamed this evening, or for another glacial cold war against Russia.

I wondered if Edythe was thinking the same thing, because as she followed me to the house, she kept herself a little apart, not touching.

"Give it to me straight," I muttered out of the side of my mouth. "What's going to happen when we walk in that door?"

Edythe didn't immediately answer, and when I turned to her, I saw her face was unusually serious.

I paused in midstep. "What is it?" I said, uneasy.

"Nothing," she said evenly. She forced her eyes, which had been focused on the house, to shift to me. "Don't worry, he's not going to attack you. He...really missed you."

Edythe's face was smooth and blank as a mask, without a trace of humor. If anything, her reassurances only made me feel a greater sense of foreboding. However, we were here, and as I figured there was no way around whatever was about to happen, I only shrugged and started walking again.

Before I could get out my key, the door opened, and Charlie was standing there in the entryway. He was grinning hugely, his entire face lit up. As I stumbled over the entryway, he drew me into a hug.

"Welcome back, kid," he said with real warmth. He held me back to arm's length to have a look at me. "How was Jacksonville?"

I was too surprised by this reception to respond at first. At last, I shrugged. "Kind of like a trip to the Amazon. Humidity, a hundred and seven percent. And I think an insectologist would be in heaven there."

Charlie shepherded us toward the kitchen, still grinning from ear to ear. "So Renée didn't sell you on the University of Florida?"

I shook my head. "Not for a lack of trying, though."

Charlie's eyes went briefly to Edythe, and his usually glacial tone was almost warm as he asked, "And what about you? You have a nice time?"

"Yes," Edythe replied serenely. "I got to know Renée a little better. Beau is lucky to have a mother like her."

"True," Charlie agreed, almost buoyant. He turned away from Edythe to look at me again. He paused for a moment.

"Really good to have you back, kid," he said at last, a little sheepishly. He gripped my shoulder and gave it an affectionate shake. "For one thing, the food really sucks when you're not around."

I grinned and laughed a little as he let go. "Guess I better get on that then."

I had turned to head the rest of the way into the kitchen when Charlie said, "Before that, why don't you give Julie Black a call? She's been calling the house every five minutes since six this morning, demanding to know when you'd be back. I promised I'd make you call her the moment you got home."

I didn't know how to respond for a moment. I could feel Edythe right behind me, perfectly still, colder than usual. So this was why she'd been so tense.

"She's been calling to talk to me?" I said at last, uncertain.

Charlie nodded. "Must be pretty important, whatever it is, but she wouldn't tell me what."

The phone suddenly rang, ringing in my ears, shrill and loud.

"Probably her again," Charlie said.

"Right." I stepped into the kitchen and hurried over to the phone. Charlie disappeared into the living room, but Edythe followed silently behind me like a ghost.

I grabbed the phone off the receiver in mid-ring, then turned around to face the wall as I put it to my ear. "Hello?"

"You're back," Jules said.

The familiar sound of her distinct, slightly husky voice seemed to suddenly jerk me back in time. Images like an old film flickered through my mind—a rocky beach strewn with driftwood, a garage made of plastic sheds filled with bits of old rusted motorcycles, warm sodas in a paper bag. Laughter in dark eyes, as we worked to plot conspiracy and rebellion.

A powerful wave of some emotion I couldn't fully identify crashed over me. It was like—melancholy? Regret?

My thoughts went briefly back to my mom, and I realized I thought I knew what it was. I felt—homesick. That was the word. Jules had seen me through a dark time, and the garage and the too-small house she shared with Bonnie had been like a second home to me—maybe more of a home than my own, filled as my own had been with painful memories. Now I suddenly had the strangest, powerful longing to go back there, and see my best friend again.

I had to swallow hard to clear my throat. "Yeah," I said, trying to keep the emotion out of my voice.

"Why didn't you call me?" she demanded.

Her aggressive tone pulled me out of my sentimental mood, and abruptly everything felt completely normal, as though we had just spoken yesterday, rather than weeks ago. I grinned a bit, and said with a little exasperation, "Maybe because I just walked in the door about five seconds ago, and your call just interrupted Charlie trying to tell me you called."

"Oh," she said, a little sheepishly. "Sorry."

"Any particular reason you've been harassing my dad all day?"

"I just needed to ask you something."

"Go for it."

There was a short pause.

"Are you going to school tomorrow?"

I was incredulous. "That was the super important thing you needed to talk to me about? Seriously? Course I am. Why wouldn't I?"

"Just wondering," Jules muttered.

I sighed. "I know there's something else. Just spit it out."

Jules hesitated. "It's nothing...nothing really. I guess I just sort of needed to hear your voice."

I didn't answer for a moment. The homesickness was suddenly like a live animal, clawing at my stomach and crushing my throat. I knew what she meant—I knew what it was like to be depressed, and just need to talk to someone. Just a few short months ago, that had been me.

"Yeah," I said. "I'm glad you called, Jules. I..." I trailed off. I wanted to tell her I was coming to see her. I wanted go straight down to La Push and make sure she was okay, and make her laugh like old times. But...

Even though I didn't turn to look, I could feel Edythe standing behind me, still as a statue, watching me.

The line was silent for a moment. Then Jules said abruptly, "I've got to go. Sorry, Beau, I'll talk to you later. Soon, I promise."

"Wait," I stuttered. "Why do you—"

"See you," she breathed, and before I could say any more, the line clicked off, leaving me listening to the dial tone, buzzing in my ear. I stared down at the phone in my hand in disbelief.

"Well, that was weird," I muttered.

"Is everything all right?" Edythe asked, her tone mild, but careful.

I hesitated, then turned slowly to meet her gaze. Her expression was smooth, unreadable.

I shrugged. "I'm not sure, honestly. I don't know what she wanted."

I distractedly went about getting dinner made, pulling ingredients from the fridge and setting them out on the counter, though my thoughts were still back at La Push. Edythe stood by the counter, watching my face carefully, but I barely noticed.

I wondered why Jules had called. Been so urgent, broken weeks of silence and ignoring my calls to get a hold of me—only to say barely anything at all. She'd asked me if I was going to school, but that was it. I had missed the previous Friday in order to visit my mom, and though Charlie hadn't been all that happy about it I'd convinced him that one day wasn't going to mess up my academic career, but I really doubted Jules cared much about my studies. From the start of our trip to the finish, I'd only been gone three days.

I froze where I was, eyes wide, the fridge door hanging open and a package of hamburger half pulled from the hamper.

Edythe saw the shock in my face, and was immediately at my side, a steadying hand at my back. "What is it?" she said softly. "What's wrong?"

I shook my head, trying to shake off the sudden numbness I felt spreading through me.

Three days. That was the time it took for a human to undergo the excruciating transformation into a vampire. New vampires were crazy with thirst, and I knew when my time came, I wouldn't be able to be around people, let alone go to school.

Maybe Charlie had mentioned to Bonnie that I had left for three days, and Jules had been suddenly overcome with the fear that...maybe I was already...

"Beau?" Edythe was peering up at me, a cool hand resting on my arm. "Beau, are you all right?"

I shook my head. I muttered in a low voice, "I think...I think maybe she was checking. To make sure I'm still human."

Edythe's eyes hardened slightly, and I felt her hand holding my arm tighten.

I suddenly found myself thinking about the treaty. If Edythe _had_ changed me while we were away, that would have broken it. Before we did it, Edythe and I would have to get away from here, so we didn't start a war. We wouldn't ever be able to come back.

I did my best to focus on dinner, as I felt Edythe's concerned eyes follow me.

* * *

"If I asked you to do something, would you trust me?" Edythe asked. There was a definite edge to her soft voice.

We were just about to school. Edythe had seemed perfectly relaxed a second ago, but now her delicate hands were clenched around the steering wheel, like she might twist it in two.

I felt my own heart rate speed up in response to the tension in her face, but I said, "That depends."

We pulled into the school parking lot, and Edythe grumbled something inaudibly to herself.

"What exactly do you want me to do?" I asked, eying her suspiciously.

"If you could, I'd like you to stay in the car a minute." She pulled into our usual spot and turned off the engine. "Please, Beau. I will come back for you."

Edythe had tried to tell me to do this once before, when she had been seriously considering going back to kill a few crazy druggies who'd tried to kill me. I found myself reaching over to grab her arm in reflex.

"Why?" I asked cautiously.

Edythe stared back at me, as always unwilling to pull away when I didn't let go. Her mouth tightened slightly and she didn't answer. However, she didn't have to.

As I stared at her, my gaze briefly shifted to the crowds outside, and that was when I saw her.

She stood with her arms folded, leaning against her black motorcycle, which was parked illegally on the sidewalk. On all sides of her, students were giving her a wide berth.

"Jules," I breathed.

"Apparently you were wrong yesterday," Edythe muttered. "The reason she wanted to know if you'd be in school was that she knew I'd be where you were. She wanted to talk to me—in a safe place, with witnesses."

"Huh," I muttered. I'd been pretty far off the mark.

I realized, childishly, that I was a little stung, especially as I studied her face, and recognized the smooth, impassivity of the cool face she always wore when she was keeping herself in check. It made her look a little like Samantha, the leader of the wolves, not like herself. Here, I was seeing Jules again, but it wasn't the Jules that was my best friend, but the Jules who was a cold imitation of Sam. A Jules who had come here to talk to Edythe, probably on behalf of the pack, not to me.

Wordlessly, I let go of Edythe, then turned and shoved open the car door.

Edythe grumbled something that sounded like an oath under her breath, then climbed out after me.

Jules gazed at us coldly as we approached, Edythe keeping a little in front of me.

I realized that we had an audience. Plenty of the students had stopped to gape, most of their eyes riveted on Jules. The sleeves of her black shirt were sheared off despite the unseasonably cool weather, and her jeans were ragged and grease-smeared. Her lean, muscles arms were folded, and she was leaning casually against her black motorcycle. Everyone was keeping their distance, and no one made eye contact.

It suddenly occurred to me that Jules probably looked like a pretty hardcore delinquent. The thought almost made me laugh.

Edythe came to a stop, keeping a few yards between Jules and us. She took a casual step to the side, so that I was further behind her and to signal me to stop walking.

"You could have simply called," Edythe said, on the surface her voice light, but with an unmistakable edge of steel.

Jules's mouth twisted into a sneer. "Too bad I don't have any leeches on my speed dial." She went on in a mockingly upbeat, peppy voice, "I know, why don't you and I exchange phone numbers? Then I can call you if I ever need advice on how to do my nails—or how to rip people's throats out."

"I think this is hardly the time or the place for this discussion," Edythe said in a low, hard voice. Her eyes flickered over the parking lot meaningfully.

As far as I could tell, no one was quite within hearing range, but plenty of people, many I knew, had paused to watch whatever was going on, as though hoping something would happen to alleviate the usual morning boredom. I saw Taylor Crowley whisper something into Aubrey Marks's ear. From Jules's posture and Edythe's careful stance in front of me, the hostility was probably palpable clear across the parking lot.

"Anyway," Edythe said. "I already know what you came here to say. Consider us warned."

Edythe took my hand, turning in the direction of the school, tugging me slightly forward, though she had to angle us a little to avoid passing too close to Jules, who was standing directly in our path.

I took a couple of steps, then stopped. I glanced at Jules again. "Warn? Warn them about what?"

"Nothing," Edythe said. She pulled on my hand again, but I didn't move.

Jules's dark eyes were narrow, darting between us. "Wait," she began. "You didn't tell him? He doesn't _know_?"

"There's nothing to tell," Edythe said evenly.

"What's going on?" I said, looking between them. "What don't I know? Edythe?"

Edythe didn't look at me. She'd turned again to face Jules, and she was glaring.

I turned to Jules. "What is it? What happened?"

" _Nothing_ ," Jules said, in a high, mocking imitation of Edythe. "Except that one of _them_ crossed the line last Saturday night. Paula was a bit ticked. Had a right to be, if you ask me."

"It was no-man's land," Edythe hissed in a low, icy voice. "Eleanor didn't cross the line."

"Says you," sneered Jules, though I noticed her fists were clenched and shaking slightly with anger.

My head spun as I tried to process what I was hearing. "Are you saying..." I began slowly. "Eleanor and Paula got into a fight?" I felt the sweat break out on my palms. "What happened?" I demanded. "Is Paula okay?"

"No one fought," Edythe said quietly, reassuringly. "No one got hurt. Don't worry."

Jules was staring at me with growing incredulity.

"You really didn't tell him anything, did you? Is that what that little weekend trip was all about? To keep him in the dark about—"

"I think you should leave," Edythe said sharply. "Right now." There was no longer even the pretense of politeness in her voice. She gazed back at Jules with undisguised loathing, a dangerous look in her eyes.

Jules didn't move, and her only response was to raise her eyebrows a little. "Someone has to tell him," she said.

They stared back at each other in silence for a long minute, each trying to glare the other down. I noticed a few other people had stopped behind Taylor and Aubrey. Allen was there, too, looking worried, along with McKayla and Becca, who were looking at each other with raised eyebrows.

I stared back at Jules, and I could feel my mind spinning. They had been right there, at the border between the Cullens' land and the Quileutes' land, too close together—closer than they would normally be by choice. But why? Why would they be there? Unless...

Unless...

My stomach dropped.

I knew very suddenly what Archie had seen in that vision at lunch, and why Edythe had been so desperate to get me out of Forks.

It wasn't until I felt Edythe's arm around my back, supporting my weight, that I realized I had staggered back a step. I felt chills on my skin, and a cold sweat had broken out on my face. I felt like I was going to be sick.

I had really only seen his face one time—Victor, Joss's mate. But still it was burned into my mind. His stealthy, cat-like walk, his flaming red hair. And most of all, his dark, blood red eyes.

After his former coven-mate, Lauren, had nearly murdered me, for a while I had lived in dread of the moment he would come for me. Torture me and kill me, as Lauren had said he would, as revenge on Edythe for Joss's death. The nightmares still cropped up in my dreams, even now—I knew firsthand what it was like to be tortured by a vampire. And what was more, I knew that, as long as Victor was out there, my human friends and family were in danger, too.

"See what you've done," Edythe hissed in a low, accusing voice, her eyes on Jules. I felt her hands gently caressing mine, soothing, reassuring.

"He has a right to know," Jules insisted.

"There was no point," Edythe murmured furiously, her mouth barely moving. "There was never any danger. He didn't need to know. Can you even comprehend how—how frightening these things can be to a human?"

Jules shrugged, and her expression was hard. "Better scared than lied to."

An involuntary shiver wracked my spine, and my eyes darted restlessly about the parking lot, as though Victor might be there, lurking in the shadow of the trees. I felt Edythe squeeze my hand, and she pressed her lips to my cheek.

"It's okay," she murmured, so low I barely caught the words. "It's okay. Don't worry, everything is fine."

Her eyes returned to Jules and they were cold. She said in a low, harsh voice, "You're only bringing him unnecessary pain and suffering—can't you see that, you mongrel? He doesn't need this. He has enough to worry about without—"

"—without telling him the truth about what's actually been going on," Jules interrupted, and she was beginning to look really angry now, her lip pulled back from her teeth, her dark eyes flashing.

Edythe started to say something, but Jules went on, talking over her.

"Look, leech, Beau's doesn't need you or anyone else sugarcoating and hiding things to keep him in some safe little insulated bubble of sunshine. Yes, Beau freaks out about things—that's how he is. But don't treat him like he's some delicate little princess who needs you to shield him. He's been through a lot worse than this—I would know."

Jules paused, and for a moment, her expression turned thoughtful.

Edythe had opened her mouth to respond, but suddenly she stiffened. Her eyes widened, and her face turned bone white.

A hint of a smile played on Jules's lips. "What's wrong?" she taunted softly. "Didn't like that thought? What about this one, then?"

Edythe's head bent, her eyes wide and her face contorting as though with some indescribable torture. She gritted her teeth.

My mind suddenly flashed back to a dim, circular room halfway around the world. The Volturi guard Jonathan had turned his haunting eyes on Edythe, and for a moment she had been utterly incapacitated by the terrible power—Jonathan's power to cause pain with his thoughts alone. The look on her face, twisted in agony, was forever seared into my memory.

For a moment I forgot all about Victor, and I grabbed Edythe by the arm, afraid she would collapse as she had back then.

"Edythe," I called, hardly able to keep the panic from my voice. "Edythe, what's wrong?"

Instead of responding, Edythe took a breath, briefly closing her eyes and forcing her brow to smooth. However, when she opened them again, I could still feel the tension in the the tense skin around her eyes.

I spun on Jules, my free hand clenching into a fist. I said forcefully, "Whatever you're doing, cut it out."

"It's nothing," Edythe said, holding my hand between hers. "Nothing. Don't worry about it."

"Yeah," Jules agreed. "Don't worry about it, Beau." She tapped her temple. "I've just got a few things stored up here that just sort of...came to mind. If she doesn't like it, that's her problem. Maybe it'll teach her not to go rummaging around in other people's heads."

I glared at her. "Cut it out, Jules," I repeated, slowly and dangerously. "Right now."

Jules shrugged and grinned impishly, unfazed by my anger. She gave a mock salute. "Yes, sir, whatever you say, sir."

Edythe squeezed my hand, and she said in a low voice, "The principal's on her way to discourage loitering on school property. Let's go before we're involved."

"Yeah," Jules called after me, "get to class like a perfect, model student. Bet that's what your life consists of now—following the rules, staying indoors, shuffling along at a slow, steady pace so you never risk stubbing your toe. Listen, if you ever decide you want to have fun again, you can always come see me. I've still got your motorcycle in the garage."

This distracted me and I stopped walking again. "You said you were going to sell that." If Charlie had gotten his way, the motorcycle would have gone into a dumpster somewhere halfway to the state line. Possibly on fire. But I'd convinced him after all the work Jules had put in on it, she deserved to get something back for it.

Jules shrugged carelessly. "Yeah, well, I couldn't get rid of something that wasn't mine, could I? It's yours. So it'll be there, until you decide you want it again."

She smiled a little then, her real smile that I knew.

I felt some of my anger fade. "Jules," I began, my voice low with emotion, though I wasn't sure what I wanted to say.

Jules leaned forward, dropping the mask of bitter mockery, and for just a moment she was herself again, almost apologetic. "You know, Beau, I've been thinking a lot. I think I was wrong, what I said before. We are still friends—or at least, we can be. On my side of the line. Just drop by again sometime."

I hesitated. Edythe's cold hand was closed tightly around mine, and she'd angled herself so she stood between Jules and me again.

"I don't know," I said slowly, not sure what else to say, and wishing I could say something else. _Yeah, we'll always be friends no matter what. Sure, I'll come down any day._ But, I didn't have that choice.

The hostility in Jules's face was completely gone now—the way she was when it was just the two of us, and there were no vampires around. It was as though she had forgotten Edythe was there. Her eyes were sincere, earnest.

"It sucks when you're not around, Beau," she said quietly. "Really sucks. Everything's just so boring, and..." Her voice caught unexpectedly and she looked away, blinking rapidly.

I had to clench my hand in a fist to keep myself from reaching out to her. "I know, Jules," I began, sighing. "I know, but..."

Jules sucked a deep breath through her nose and got a hold of herself. She forced a smile. "Never mind then. I'll survive. Freaks of nature don't really need friends."

I couldn't answer. If anything, the painful smile made me feel sicker than ever. I needed to do something—anything. How could I just leave a friend of mine like this, after everything she had done for me? I was a jerk, a failure. I wanted to just walk the few yards to her and, even if I couldn't tell her I would come to see her and everything would be just like it was, at least put a hand on her shoulder. Let her know somehow that I was still here for her.

But Edythe's cold fingers were still gripping mine, holding me in place.

"All right," said a sharp, authoritative voice behind us. "That's enough. Everyone move along, it's time for class. You, too, Ms. Crowley."

Edythe started pulling me along again, keeping me behind her, but by that time Ms. Greene, the school principle, had already pushed through the crowd of spectators, and zeroed in on us. Her thin brows pushed together above her sharp spectacles, which glinted ominously in the dim, overcast sky as she made a beeline straight for us. As she walked, she called loud enough for everyone to hear, "Detention for anyone still standing here in the next four seconds."

The crowd had already dispersed before she'd even finished speaking, though I saw plenty of shared looks and furtive glances back at us.

"Is there a problem here?" she asked in a clipped voice, eyes flickering from each of our faces in turn.

"No, no problem, Ms. Greene," Edythe said, dipping her head politely. "We were just on our way to class."

Ms. Greene turned her hawk-like eyes on Jules, taking in her sheared off sleeves, rebellious, slouching posture, and the motorcycle propped up nearby, and I could only guess what conclusions she was forming.

"I don't remember seeing you here before," she said, eyes narrowed. "Are you a new student?"

"Not really, no." Jules was half smirking as she spoke, and she leaned back lazily against her motorcycle.

Ms. Greene did not take well to either insolent tones or sass, and she said sharply, "Then I advise you to remove yourself from this property at once, before I am forced to call the police to have you forcibly removed."

Jules was really grinning now as though this was a fine joke, and I knew she was imagining Charlie showing up to arrest her. However, the bitter, mocking quality was back in her face.

She put up both hands in surrender. "Yes, Ma'am." Then she swung a long leg over the bike and kicked it to a start right there on the sidewalk. The engine snarled and the tires squealed, and in a moment, she was long out of sight.

Ms. Greene gazed out after the place Jules had gone with her lips pursed in a thin line, her face a mask of severe disapproval.

"Miss Cullen, do you know that young lady?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Edythe answered. "But only a little."

"Well, if you see her again, please let her know I do not want to see her trespassing here again. I don't want to have to get the police involved, but I certainly will if I have to."

"I will pass that along," Edythe said, as her narrowed eyes also followed the place Jules had gone.

Edythe towed me along toward the English building. When we were past Ms. Greene and alone again, she pressed a cool hand to my forehead, then to my cheek, and looked up at me anxiously.

"Are you okay?" she asked in a low voice. "Do you feel well enough to go to class?"

"I'm fine," I said. I felt a knot of tension forming at the base of my neck, but I didn't care. There were about a million questions I needed to ask her—but as I heard the click of Ms. Greene's high-heeled shoes as she followed us into the building, I knew it would have to wait until English.

We got to class a little late and we took our usual seats at the back quickly. Mrs. Berty was reciting a Frost poem, and she didn't break her rhythm to acknowledge us, which worked for me.

As soon as we were sat down, I seized a notebook from my bag and scribbled so fast the words were barely legible.

 _What happened?_

I tore out the page and slipped it over to Edythe, though I kept my eyes on the front of the room.

I heard her sigh slightly beside me, and less than a minute later the paper was back on my desk, now filled with a paragraph of writing in her perfect calligraphy.

 _Archie had a vision Victor was coming back. I thought it would be better if you were out of town, but really there was never any danger. Eleanor and Jessamine nearly had him, but Victor—we think it must have somehow been intentional—escaped right down the Quileute boundary line. Archie's powers were nullified by the Quileutes' involvement. The big gray wolf thought Eleanor stepped over the line, and she got territorial. Then naturally Royal got involved, and so all the attention was on each other instead of Victor. Carine and Jessamine got things cooled down before it came to a fight, but in the meantime, Victor escaped. We very well might have had him if not for the Quileutes' interference, though to be fair, the reverse may also be true. That's everything._

I frowned down at the words on the page. So, I'd been the only one out of the loop. While I was obliviously chilling out in Florida, my two families had been putting themselves in danger, and very nearly gotten into a fight. If they had, and someone got hurt, even killed, I would have had no idea—not until long after the fact.

I scrubbed out the message, almost angrily, and scribbled, _What about Charlie?_

Edythe wrote back, _He was never in any danger. If Victor was after him, Archie would have known it. He was in no more danger than you would have been. We only got you out as a precaution. You're the one Victor is after, not Charlie._

I shook my head. I felt queasy, thinking about Victor, but I felt even more sick knowing I'd been away and unwittingly left Charlie here by himself, potentially to face Victor alone.

I looked at Edythe for a long time. I didn't think I'd ever given Edythe an order before—I wasn't that kind of guy. But as I scrubbed out Edythe's words, I wrote a new note—this time, slowly and deliberately, making sure every letter was clear and in bold. Finally, I struck a vicious underline under the entire thing at the end, and handed it over.

 _ **You will tell me next time.**_

Edythe glanced down at it, then lifted her eyes to gaze back at me for a long moment. I wasn't sure what my face looked like. Whether it was angry or cold or disappointed, or if there was no expression at all—maybe because I wasn't sure myself what I was feeling at the moment.

At last, Edythe nodded once.

I smiled a little. I reached over to take her hand, and she smiled back. Then I did my best to turn my attention back up to the lecture, even as my troubled thoughts continued to churn through my mind.

* * *

It wasn't until I got to Calculus, my one class I didn't have with Edythe, that I overheard some of the conversation that was apparently going around the school.

As I sat down, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that the girls a few seats over had their heads together, whispering in low voices.

"Yeah, I know her," McKayla was saying, very quietly. "If you've been to the beach down at La Push, you've probably seen her before. Julie Black. She's a friend of Beau's."

"Apparently not of Edythe's, though," Taylor put in, also keeping her voice down. "I seriously thought she was going to go over there and paste Edythe to the parking lot."

"Wonder what her problem was?" said Becca, shaking her head.

McKayla gave a dry, humorless laugh. "I think that part's pretty easy to figure out."

Out of the corner of my eye I saw her turn a meaningful look in my direction.

I got out my calculus book and pretended to study it carefully. They couldn't seem to tell that I could hear them.

"Either way," whispered Becca. "It was a good thing Ms. Greene showed up when she did. I wouldn't have wanted to see anything happen to Edythe."

"I don't know," McKayla said slowly. "I think Edythe is stronger than she looks. You know that day last year? When Beau got sick and I had to take him to the nurse? Edythe practically carried him there. And she's tricky—she doesn't seem like the type to fight fair." After a moment, she added under her breath, "Not that I wouldn't like to see someone take Edythe Cullen down a peg..."

Becca shot McKayla a shocked look. "You don't mean that."

"Sure she does," Taylor chipped in. "And I second that."

"Come on you guys," said Becca, looking between the two of them, getting agitated now.

McKayla shrugged. "I wouldn't worry about it. I doubt anyone can get the best of Edythe Cullen."

"Edythe didn't seem like she liked that Black girl any more than she liked her, did she?" said Aubrey in a low voice. "She's always so polite, but the look on her face was downright nasty."

"Like I said, that girl from La Push is a friend of Beau's," McKayla said, in a lower voice still. "You know those months when the Cullens were gone...they were together all the time. And apparently their dads were old friends."

"In other words," Taylor whispered in a delighted voice, "Edythe considers her a _threat_."

"Come on, guys," Becca said nervously. "You know there's no competition. Beau only likes Edythe."

The others ignored her and Aubrey said excitedly, "Who are you rooting for?"

"Gangster girl, definitely," Taylor said.

"Come on, guys," Becca pleaded again, without success. She turned to McKayla. "Edythe is nice to everyone."

McKayla hesitated, considering. At last she said, murmuring almost to herself, "She is...always nice. Too nice. You can never tell what she's thinking. She's just the kind of girl who will smile to your face, but then stab you in the back."

"You don't really think that," Becca whispered.

McKayla continued as if Becca hadn't spoken. "I met that Julie Black girl once. She's the most obnoxious person you'll ever meet—but she does care about Beau. I'll give her that. I think she understands him. So...my vote goes to her."

Becca tried to get another word in, but McKayla deftly turned the gossip to other topics then.

I kept my eyes on my calculus, and tried to concentrate on the problems on the worksheet. However, I doubted I'd be getting much done this period.

* * *

A/N: Well, there's another one.

This was a fun chapter to work on. I've always been interested in Beau's relationship with his mother, maybe more than Bella and Renee's relationship, and some of those scenes naturally come out a bit differently. (And as for the end, it is fun writing girl gossip. ;9)

Thanks so much for reading! If you have a moment, let me know what you thought, and see you next time~

Posted 11/30/16


	5. Nature

A/N: Hey, guys! We're having kind of a double-feature this time, so I guess you can consider it an early Christmas/New Year's present. :J (That is, I combined chapters 4 and 5 from the original book into this one chapter here, mainly because of the change back from New Moon Reimagined, in that there is no imprinting here in this version of the Life and Death world.)

Thanks so much for reading so far, and for your wonderful thoughts and comments. See you at the end! :J

* * *

Chapter 4: Nature

The news about Victor didn't change a whole lot. I'd always known he'd be back sometime, and considering my usual luck, it didn't entirely surprise me that turned out to be sooner rather than later.

However, the fact I'd been half expecting it didn't stop me from continually shooting glances at the dark woods and jumping at small noises. As much as I wanted to act cool, I was in just about full-on freakout mode. Even though I'd about resigned myself to waiting to change until after graduation, now I was wondering if it might not be better to step up the schedule. No one could argue I'd be a whole lot more durable as a vampire than a pitiful human.

However, no one I talked to seemed to share my view of things.

"Look," Archie had said. "If Victor ever had the slightest, most miniscule chance of getting within twenty miles of you, I'd see it. There are seven of us, one of him. Besides, what would it do to your dad for you to suddenly drop off the face of the planet?"

When I tried to point out that Edythe's lying to me and dragging me out to Florida obviously seemed to contradict that, Archie had sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Really, man. Haven't you noticed yet that Edy has this occasional tendency to completely overreact?"

I would have argued further, but then Jessamine stepped in, using her curious talent of controlling emotions to take away all my anxiety and replace it with absolute calm. I felt reassured, at least until I left the room.

I even tried talking to Edythe, even though I was pretty sure I already knew her response. Somehow her answer was even more frustrating than Archie's.

She simply flashed a smile at me that showed her dimples. "You know I'll do it anytime—on one small condition. Shall we go down and talk to Charlie right now? Ring your mother up in Florida?"

I couldn't answer that. I'd tentatively already agreed to Edythe's condition, and I wasn't about to go back on my word—but that didn't change the fact that I was paralyzed with terror at the thought of telling my parents I was getting married.

It wasn't the commitment I was afraid of—as far as I was concerned, I considered myself bound to Edythe, and I hadn't the slightest bit of interest in playing the field or living up my bachelor years. But I'd been raised to feel getting married right after high school was about as irresponsible as you could get, and there would definitely be talk around town. Charlie and plenty of other people would probably assume Edythe was pregnant, and my mom would probably be shocked, even horrified after the innumerable rants and warnings she had given me growing up against the evils of early marriage.

Edythe knew, thanks to that, I wasn't going to push up the timetable for any reason—even to save my own life.

All in all, I had to say I'd had a pretty lousy week. And the weekend was slated to be the worst of all of it.

Edythe was going to be away. Whenever she was gone, the day seemed twice, three times as long. But as Archie had foreseen nothing out of the usual this weekend, I'd absolutely insisted she take the opportunity to go out and do some real hunting—Eleanor and Jessamine were headed up into the mountains, where the big game like bears and mountain lions were.

Edythe had been living on easy, nearby prey for a while now, and though I knew they sustained her, it was the big predators they all really craved. Going without them for too long would probably be like me trying to live on nothing but tofu—doable in theory, but it would probably only be so long before insanity set in. I didn't want to see Edythe having to sacrifice something she could enjoy doing with her family just to stay with me.

I was glad Edythe couldn't read my mind. Or know just how much I missed her whenever she left. Pathetically, some of the old nightmares I'd been tormented with every night when the Cullens had left Forks last fall would sometimes come back, and when I woke I'd have to run and throw up in the bathroom. It would always take me a minute to remember I wasn't still trapped in that living nightmare, that I wasn't still alone, broken.

I knew if Edythe had any idea, instead of shaking her head and telling me to get over it already—which I wouldn't blame her if she did—she would probably be afraid to leave at all, for any reason. It had kind of been like that in the beginning, when we got back from Italy. Her normally golden eyes had turned coal black with intense thirst, but she had never once complained, and I had eventually had to pull myself together enough to practically push her out the door, to prevent her from torturing herself more than she did already.

Still, I don't think Edythe was entirely fooled by my effort to put on a face of good cheer. When I dragged myself out of bed that morning, I found a note on my desk.

 _I'll be back soon. I doubt you'll be thinking of me half so much as I'll be thinking of you. I love you._

I read the note over several times, sighing to myself. I doubted that middle part was true, though if it was, it was probably because she had a full eight hours on me when I was asleep.

Either way, I was stuck with a big empty Saturday to fill. I had work in the morning at Newton's Olympic Outfitters, but it was a short shift, only a few hours. It wouldn't keep me distracted the duration of the day. I was really glad now I'd volunteered to help Allen help Becca with her graduation preparation, that would help, but unfortunately, that wasn't until the afternoon.

Archie's reassurances hadn't done much to cheer me up either.

"Sticking close to home to hunt this time," he'd said as he flashed a grin. "I'll be barely fifteen minutes away if you need anything—I'll be on the lookout for trouble."

I translated this to mean something like: _Don't start getting ideas just because Edythe is gone. I can take out your truck just as well as she can._

So going down to La Push was out, not that I'd expected anything different.

As I got into my truck to go to work, I was thinking about the entire psychotic situation I was in. It wouldn't have to be like this if only the wolves and the vampires could get along. They all believed in the same thing, fought for the same thing—if only they could see it. The way they acted, you'd think they were both magnets with opposite charges. When you tried to force one to move, the other jumped away from it.

Grumbling to myself, I pulled out of the drive.

When I got to Newton's, McKayla was methodically clearing up dust bunnies with a dry mop, while her dad was working on a new counter display. Although McKayla was working in aisle two and her father was at the front counter, they were apparently carrying on an argument, still unaware that I had arrived.

"But it's the only time Taylor can go," McKayla insisted. "You _promised_ after graduation—"

"No means no," Mr. Newton said sternly. "I don't want you girls anywhere near Seattle until the police get to the bottom of whatever it is going on down there. I know Buck Crowley said exactly the same thing to Taylor, so there's no point making me out to be the bad guy. That's my final word."

Mr. Newton spotted me and his frown quickly turned to a good-natured smile. "Ah, good morning, Beau. You're here early."

Kevin Newton never exactly looked like a sports-outdoor enthusiast. He was always immaculately well groomed and dressed smart, often in a suit and tie, so he looked more like a business executive just come from an office meeting than the kind of guy you'd expect to see out backpacking trails.

"Light traffic," I joked as I went and grabbed my orange vest from under the counter.

"Ah, Beau—" Mr. Newton began. He shifted uncomfortably, picking up a stack of fliers and tapping the sides to straighten them.

I stopped what I was doing to look at him.

"I meant to call you," he said. "I doubt we're going to see much business today. McKayla and I can probably handle things here..."

I hesitated. It made sense. I'd already let the Newtons know I wouldn't be available to work this summer—essentially ditching them in their busiest season—so they'd already started training Kyle Marshall to take my place. So more and more on slow days they'd been sending me home early. They couldn't afford to have too much extra help on the payroll.

Normally I would have been happy at the prospect of having the entire morning free. But today...

"I'm sorry you got up and drove out," he said.

"Oh...okay." Slowly I began getting back out of my vest.

"That's not fair, Dad," McKayla jumped in. "He's already here. You can't just—"

"It's okay," I said quickly, not wanting to be a source of further familial discord. "I've got...some other stuff to do..."

Mr. Newton smiled at me apologetically. "Sorry again. Hey, you mind tossing these in the dumpster on your way out? I told the boy giving them out I'd leave them on the counter, but there's not room."

"Sure, no problem." I put my vest away, then tucked the stack of fliers under my arm and headed out into the misty rain.

I shuffled slowly around the side of Newton's where the dumpster was situated, next to the small space where employees were supposed to park, roughly kicking aside stones as I went. I was just about to toss the fliers in the trash when the bolded caption across the top caught my eye.

 **SAVE THE OLYMPIC WOLF**

I stared down at it for a minute, startled. I felt my throat contract unexpectedly. Under the words, there was a detailed drawing of a wolf, head thrown back in the act of baying at the moon. However, it was something in the wolf's posture that caught my attention. Its eyes closed, its forelegs slightly bent, as though in defeat. As though its howl were a howl of grief.

I could hear the mournful sound in my ears, in my head—and suddenly I was sprinting for my truck. I threw myself in, hurling the fliers across the passenger's seat, and turned the key in the ignition at the same time I ripped my belt from the holder and snapped it into the place in record time. In the next second, I was tearing out of the parking lot like the devil was on my heels.

Fifteen minutes—that was what I had. But it was barely fifteen minutes to La Push from here, and I should pass the boundary line before I hit town.

Archie couldn't have foreseen this, because I'd only decided a moment ago. That was the one flaw, the weak point of his power—he couldn't see anything until I decided. Snap decisions—I should have seen it before.

I barreled down the wet highway, turning the windshield wipers up to high and ignoring the groan of the ancient engine. I wasn't going to get more than fifty-five out of my old clunker; I could only hope it would be enough.

I didn't know exactly where the boundary line was, but I relaxed a little as I began to pass the first houses outside La Push. I doubted Archie would be allowed to follow me here.

I'd give him a call when I got to Becca's that afternoon. That way he'd know nothing bad had happened to me. I really didn't want him to be ticked off at me if he didn't have to be. After all, Edythe's wrath when she got back was probably going to be enough for ten vampires.

My truck was positively wheezing by the time it grated to a stop in front of the familiar faded red house. I was surprised by the flood of emotion that filled me as I stared at the place that I had spent so much time. The place that, once upon a time, had been my favorite in the world.

Before I'd even turned off the engine, Jules was there in the doorway, her mouth hanging open in shock.

I pulled the key out and the sudden silence was deafening. We stared back at each for a minute. I coughed nervously.

"Beau?" she said, face still slack with dumbfounded surprise.

"It's me," I admitted.

She gaped at me for a second longer. Then her face suddenly split into the wide grin I'd been waiting for, like the sun breaking through clouds. Her teeth flashed white against her deep russet skin.

"No way!" she exclaimed, taking a step forward, then breaking into a run. In a second she was standing beside the truck. "No freaking way."

"Way," I said, grinning as I climbed out of the truck and slammed the door behind me.

Jules slapped me on the back so hard I doubled up wheezing, then she threw an arm around my shoulders.

"I don't believe it," she said, still grinning so wide I thought it might stretch right off her face. "How did you do it?"

"Broke out," I said casually. I tapped my temple. "Superior intellect."

She laughed and punched me on the arm. "You got lucky," she guessed. "But even still, taking advantage of luck takes guts. You are _awesome_! Five thousand man points! Ten thousand! That puts you above Superman, Batman, and Hugh Jackman combined."

"Hey there, Beau."

We turned to see Bonnie had rolled herself into the doorway to see what all the commotion was about.

"Hey, Bonnie." I was sure my grin was as big as Jules's.

"So good to see you here," said Jules, arm still draped around my neck, the other hand on my shoulder, shaking me with such enthusiasm that my teeth rattled.

"Good to be back," I said.

Jules looked up at me for a moment. The smile on her face faded slightly, but it remained in her dark eyes, even deeper than before, burning with real emotion.

She said in her low, husky voice, "Welcome back, Beau."

And the way she said it made it sound like _welcome home._

* * *

The pair of us were too amped up to sit still, and we set off for a walk, jabbering a mile a minute as we worked to get caught up. I wanted to know what she had been up to the last few weeks, and she wanted to know what I'd been up to, what had brought me here and how long I had.

However, I knew eventually we'd have to get to the harder stuff, and as we ambled past the back of the general store and shoved through the thick shrub that ringed the far edge of First Beach, some of our initial excitement wore off, and her face settled into the mask of hard bitterness I was beginning to know better than I liked.

"So," she began, voice almost airy, but with an unmistakable edge. "Everything's just back to the way it was then? You forgave her, and let her back in like nothing happened. After what she did to you."

I didn't really want to talk about this. But I knew after everything she'd done for me during that dark time, I owed it to her.

"I don't blame her for anything," I said in a low voice. "Not then, and not now. There was nothing to forgive."

Jules gave a harsh, incredulous laugh. "You don't really feel that way. Not completely. I mean—you should have seen yourself. You were a train wreck. If she did to you physically what she did to you emotionally, she would be put in prison."

I didn't like arguing with Jules. I also didn't like the way she talked about Edythe, but if we were going to come to an understanding, I knew I had to keep it calm. I owed her this explanation.

"Edythe had her reasons," I said evenly. "It's my fault for reacting the way I did. She didn't know...She only did it because she was trying to do what was best. For me."

Jules sneered. "Sure she was."

I continued, ignoring her, "She thought it was dangerous for me to be around vampires. She was afraid something bad would happen—she wanted me to have a shot at a normal life. She didn't tell me that when she left, but that was why."

Jules hesitated. Clearly she hadn't quite been expecting that. She gazed out at the horizon for a moment, toward the waves lapping at the damp sand. At last she shook her head. "Even if it really was for a reason like that," she said in a low voice, "she still didn't tell you the truth, did she?"

I looked away. "She did it for me."

"Just like she didn't tell you about that red-haired bloodsucker _for you_?"

I didn't answer, just stared out at the waves.

"Look," Jules said. "I'm not saying she doesn't care about you—in her own twisted, sicko vampire way—but how can you trust her? How do you know she won't leave you again? It's not like she ever asks for your opinion. Think about it, she controls your entire life. You couldn't even come here without having to sneak away from her."

I still didn't reply. For the first time, I felt the tiniest flare of frustration. I felt like she could understand Edythe if she tried—how strong she was, how self-sacrificing. Looking at it all objectively, Edythe had always been kind and mature, and I was the irresponsible one. But she refused to even try to see it.

Jules must have read what I was thinking, because she let out a breath like a sigh, then she stepped around me, so she was blocking my view of the ocean. Her face had relaxed and she was smiling, and though it wasn't quite the same smile of the Jules that was my best friend, it was closer than a moment before.

"Don't sulk. You know I'm always going to tell you like it is. Or at least, how it looks to me. You never have to guess what _I'm_ thinking."

"Sometimes a little mystery might be a welcome change," I muttered. However, I didn't really mean it, and as Jules set off down the beach, I followed.

She came to a stop next to a huge piece of driftwood—an entire tree, roots and all, bleached white and beached deep in the sand. A lot of memories were tied up in this place. It was _our_ tree—in a way, at least.

Jules took up a seat on the natural bench, and gestured for me to join her, still grinning.

"So," she said, resting her elbow on one of the nearby dead branches. "I was just thinking. I never did get the full story. You and the psychic bloodsucker rushed off in a dead panic, and that's just about the last time we really talked. What happened? How did you keep from getting eaten?"

"It's kind of a long story," I warned. However, I was relieved we weren't on quite such a sensitive topic that was liable to set off an argument.

"I can have a long attention span," she answered, grinning. "When I want to."

I grinned back, then shook my head. "Okay, well, you know how Archie—sees things?"

I tried to keep the story short, as I explained about Archie's vision of Edythe, quickly recounting our race to Italy, and my desperate run through the square in Volterra.

Jules's face was pensive as I talked, but just before I reached the part where Edythe and I were reunited, she interrupted me.

"Wait, go back to the beginning for a minute. So, the little psychic dude had a vision you killed yourself, so when _she_ heard about it, she ran off to kill herself. All because he didn't _see_ you being rescued."

I nodded. "Right, because Archie doesn't see you in his visions."

Jules considered that for a minute, then her mouth split into a wide grin. "Huh. Well, that's definitely good to know. _Awesome_."

I frowned at her. "You know, if you keep interrupting, we're never going to get through this."

"Sure, sure. Go on."

Next I tried to describe the Volturi, and Sulpicia.

At the mere mention of them, Jules shuddered, nostrils flaring, her teeth gritted. I knew what Jules's feelings were, but I was determined to relay the story as accurately as I could.

"To be honest, she wasn't at all what I expected for a leader of the vampires," I said thoughtfully. "She seemed...reasonable. At least all things considered. She seemed like she wanted to be fair." I added, "But maybe there was more to what was going through her head than I saw, because Edythe never relaxed an inch the entire time."

"Filthy bloodsuckers," Jules muttered furiously under her breath. "Sick, depraved, stinking leeches."

" _Anyway_ ," I said, ignoring her. "In the end, she let us go." I decided it was better to leave out her ultimatum and the approaching deadline—no need for Jules to be losing sleep the way I was. "We all got home intact. That's the story."

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees, and glanced back up at her. "Now, I've got a question for you. What exactly went down while I was with my mom in Florida?" I knew I could trust Jules not to worry about freaking me out, and I wanted to get some more detail.

Jules grinned hugely, and her dark eyes glinted. "Oh, that. Well, basically, Quil, Em, and I were out doing our rounds on Saturday night—just running around our land, looking for anything unusual, like we always do—when, out of nowhere, we suddenly ran right into a fresh trail. Not even fifteen minutes old. Course, Sam wanted us to wait for her to get there with backup, but I had no idea you were gone, or if the bloodsuckers were keeping an eye on you, so we went for it. We took off after him at full speed. Unfortunately, he crossed the treaty line before we could get to him. We spread out along the line, hoping he'd cross back over, but when the Cullens chased him back to our side, he came through too far north. We could have had him if only we'd known where to wait..."

Jules shook her head. "That's where things kind of got dicey. Sam and the others got there before we did, but the bloodsucker was sticking right to the line, like he knew where it was. Meanwhile, the entire coven of Cullens was right there, on the other side. That buff female—"

"Eleanor?"

"Yeah, her. She made a lunge for him, but he's slippery as an eel, and he was too fast. She shot past him and right toward Paula—almost slammed right into her. And, well...you know how good Paula is at keeping her cool."

I nodded, too tense to speak.

"Paula went berserk, and sprang—I can't blame her, if one of them came barreling at me like that, I'd react, too—but Paula missed and the female got back to her side. But by then, that huge blond..." She made a face that was at once both loathing and with just a touch of grudging admiration.

"Royal," I put in.

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever his name is. He got territorial. So Samantha and I had to fall back to get Paula's back. Then their leader and the smaller blond female—"

"Carine and Jessamine," I inserted.

Jules gave me an exasperated look. "Do you want me to finish or not?"

I shrugged. "It's your fault you don't even know their names."

"I know them," she said, wrinkling her nose. "I just don't feel like using them." She continued, "Anyway, so the leader—Carine, whatever—talked to Sam, tried to get things calmed down. Then everyone sort of got really mellow all of a sudden. We all knew it was the other one you talked about, messing with our emotions. But we couldn't fight it at the time. Just as well maybe, because Carine and Sam were able to agree that the slimy redhead was the priority. Carine gave us the line, so we could follow the scent properly, but then he hit the cliffs just north of Makah country and took off into the water again. Again, it was right where the boundary line was. They wanted permission for a couple of them to follow him onto our side, but we said no of course."

I nodded. "Course you did." As always, the werewolves were determined to be stupidly paranoid where the Cullens were concerned—however, in a way, I was relieved they had. It was sickening, thinking of my vampire family going up against Victor, even if they did have him outnumbered. All it would take was one mistake or moment of carelessness for someone to get hurt, perhaps killed.

"So, that's everything," Jules completed. Her lip suddenly curled into a sneer. "So what did _she_ tell you? That those _mongrels_ just suddenly went out of control again on her poor, innocent—"

"No," I said coolly, cutting her off. "She told me the same story you did, just not so much detail."

Jules grunted. She bent and picked up a pebble from the many under our feet and, casually, without even standing up, sent it flying a good hundred meters out into the bay.

"Well, he'll be back," she said confidently. "We'll have another shot at him."

I felt a shiver down my spine. She was right, of course—Victor _would_ be back. Would Edythe really tell me the next time? I couldn't be sure. All I could do was keep an eye on Archie, watch for the pattern to repeat. And of course, I knew Jules would tell me. Even if I couldn't always get out to La Push, maybe Jules would answer my phone calls now. Edythe couldn't consider phone calls dangerous.

I looked up to see Jules was gazing out at the waves, a pensive expression on her face.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked.

She glanced at me, then laughed a little uneasily. "You probably don't want to know."

I raised my eyebrows. "I thought I never had to guess what you were thinking, because you would always tell me."

She laughed at that, then shook her head.

"I guess I'm just thinking about how things might have easily gone a different way. Back then. When your psychic leech buddy—okay, _Archie—_ saw you jump, that set off everything. But if you'd waited for me like you were supposed to, we'd still be where we were back then. We'd probably be back in my garage right now, or out riding our motorcycles. It would just be us. No vampires." Her tone was wistful.

I stared out at the waves, too. At last I said quietly, "I can't wish it had turned out that way."

Jules sighed, then laughed, though it had a bitter edge. "I know that."

A moment of silence passed. Then she said, "I know you're glad she's back. I know you feel like it's better. But there may come a day when you realize it wasn't better. That you would have been better off without her."

"I doubt it." I couldn't keep the sudden chilly edge from my voice.

Again, we sat in silence for a long minute, staring out at the gently crashing waves. The smell of brine was thick on the air, and burned my eyes.

"Hey," Jules said suddenly. "Look at that."

I followed her gaze, and I saw an eagle, plunging from the sky from an incredible height. At the last moment, it spread its wings, talons raking the water, and when it rose into the air again, a fish was clutched in its claws, still wriggling feebly.

Jules abruptly got to her feet, arms folded. "I don't get it," she said suddenly. "I really don't."

"Don't get what?"

She turned back to face me. "Don't you get it, Beau? You are _prey_ to them. You're just like that fish to that eagle. An antelope to a lion. A goose to a fox—every second they're around you, they have to fight the urge to kill you. At the back of her mind, you make her mouth water. They're monsters, Beau. I know you think these ones are better, and maybe they are—marginally—but they're still what they are. How can you sit next to her and know a part of her is thinking of you like a roast turkey, and not feel your skin crawl?"

I lifted my eyes to regard her evenly. "Edythe can't help what she is. Any more than you can. What counts is what she's decided to do with her existence. And she's—she's better than anyone I've ever met. Kind and unselfish and—just plain good. No, I don't get freaked out being near her—the thought of being even a little freaked out is weird to me. Why is that hard to understand?"

Jules looked away from me. "It just is. I don't understand how you...can choose someone who's not even human."

I felt my temper flare, and a laugh escaped me before I could stop it. It wasn't a nice laugh.

"So who do you expect me to choose, Jules? McKayla Newton? If I have to stick to my own species, that doesn't leave me a lot of options."

A flash of hurt crossed her face, and her eyes dropped. "I'm human," she muttered.

I sighed. "Look, I don't care about that. I told you. Vampire, wolf, human, cockroach—it's all the same to me. We're all...people. Sentient beings. We all have feelings just the same."

"I guess so," Jules said quietly. Her eyes still didn't meet mine. Her head was bent, and in her face, I could see the pain, standing out in sharp relief.

"Jules," I said quietly. I got up slowly from the tree and went to stand beside her, putting my hand on her shoulder. This was why I was here, and why I would bear whatever reception waited for me when I got back. Because beneath all the bravado and bitter mockery, Jules was suffering. I couldn't close my eyes and turn away—I had to help her. Because once long ago she had helped me, and even more than that, I just couldn't stand it. She was my best friend, and her pain was my pain. There was no changing that now.

After a long moment, Jules glanced down at my hand, then up at my face.

"How are you, Jules?" I said quietly. "Charlie said you've been...having a rough time."

Jules looked away again. "I'm okay."

"You said I never had to guess what you were thinking," I reminded her again gently.

She choked out a laugh, then shook her head. "No, really. I'm...managing."

I shook my head. "You really are going to make me guess."

I hesitated, suddenly remembering something. "You mentioned Quil before," I said tentatively. "So I guessed she's changed, huh? How is she taking it?"

To my surprise, Jules suddenly laughed. "Quil," she said, making a face. "We all thought she would hate it—being out in the woods all the time, turning into a big, smelly animal. But she's honestly ecstatic. She preens and struts around like she thinks she's some kind of show dog. Though mostly I think she's just glad to be in on the secret. You know, part of the _in_ crowd."

I stared back at her. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, I know. All that worry for nothing. I was almost ticked at her for that."

I was still trying to get my head around it. "She...likes it?"

Jules nodded. "To be honest, most of them do—after they get used to it. There are plenty of great things you get in the deal. Power, speed, freedom—and just being part of a common cause, having a family to watch your back. Sam was bitter for a long time, but I think she's mostly accepted it now. So I guess I'm the only holdout. Still kicking up a tantrum."

I had to admit, I was curious. Questions popped up in my mind, one after another, and I had to choose what to ask first.

"What exactly happened to Sam? I know she was the first to change...alone. Is that why she hated it so much at first?"

Jules shrugged. "Partly. It's kind of complicated."

I thought of Edythe waiting for me on the other side, like the angel of judgment, and I said quickly, "I'm not in any hurry, believe me."

Jules glanced at me, and she seemed to read the implication in my voice. "She going to be ticked at you when you go back?"

"Really ticked," I admitted. I felt the need to add, a little defensively, "She's worried I'd be in danger here. Hanging out with werewolves and all."

"You could just not go back," Jules suggested. "Our couch is open."

I snorted. "Great idea. Until she comes here looking for me."

Jules stiffened slightly. "Would she really? Come onto our land, break the treaty?"

I stared out at the ocean, more seriously. "I really think she would. If she thought I might be hurt or something."

Jules's smile was back, fiercer than before. "I wish she would," she said with relish. "I'd like to get her down here—or any of them, really."

I glared at her. "That's not funny."

She smiled even wider at my expression, leaning back casually, relaxed. "Then good thing I wasn't trying to be."

I shook my head. "Look, I don't expect the two of you to become best friends. But you have no idea how much better I'd feel if you two didn't always act so ready to kill each other."

Jules sat up and, if anything, this seemed to please her. "Does she seem ready to kill me, too?" she asked eagerly.

I opened my mouth to respond, but then stopped. I realized I didn't know exactly how to answer. Edythe had once talked about killing Jules in the context of keeping me safe, but that didn't mean Edythe actually wanted to kill her. But, Edythe hadn't tried to conceal her open dislike.

At last I said, "Edythe wouldn't hurt you. She knows you're my friend."

Jules smiled. "In other words, if you didn't care what happened to me, she'd have no problem ripping my throat out. The darling angel. That's nice to know—she can't stand me _almost_ as much as I can't stand her."

Her tone was so delightedly nasty and condescending I abruptly pulled away from her and turned my back to her. I felt my fist clench at my side.

"Come on, come back," Jules said in a placating tone. "You want to find out about Sam, don't you?"

I didn't answer, and Jules continued, "There was kind of a lot of drama surrounding the whole wolf thing. I mean, we're all already dealing with plenty of drama as it is, but finding out you turn into a huge wolf makes your life as a teenager even more complicated. And Sam's not really a high drama kind of person, so I think that made it worse."

I stood there, tense for a minute more, before I sighed and turned back. We both meandered back to sit on the tree, though I kept a few feet between us.

"What you're going to tell me is gossip, isn't it?" I muttered. "Pack gossip."

Jules grinned. "Maybe. But I think I can trust you not to spread it around. And treat the parties involved with understanding and respect."

I rolled my eyes. "If you're going to tell me, just tell me."

"Okay." Jules sat up a little straighter. "I guess I'll start at the beginning. You know Sam was the first of us to change. But she had it a hundred times worse than the rest of us, because she was alone, and didn't have anyone to tell her what was happening. Her grandparents died before she was born, and her mom was pretty flighty. She took off less than a year after Sam was born, and didn't even bother to tell Sam's dad about the possibility of the change before she went. The first time it happened—the first time Sam phased—she was sure she'd lost her mind. It took her two weeks to calm down enough to change back."

Jules leaned back on her arms, and continued. "This all happened before you came to Forks, so you wouldn't have heard about it, but at the time, there was a big search for her. Her dad—usually quiet, mellow kind of guy—had the rangers out combing the forests, and the police were involved. She'd always been big on nature and hiking, so they thought she might have gone out and gotten lost, or been in an accident, or that an animal had gotten her...Lee Clearwater was out of his mind, he was out there himself whenever he got the chance, always down at the police station to see if they had any news."

"Lee?" I said, frowning. Lee was Holly Clearwater's son. The thought of the Clearwaters made me fall silent for a second in respect. Holly Clearwater had passed away of a heart attack just this past spring.

"Yeah," Jules said with kind of a sigh. "Lee and Sam were together. About three years or so, all through high school."

I was startled at this. "This was...before Elliot?" I knew it shouldn't come as such a surprise—most people fell in and out of love many times in their lives. But there had been something about Sam and Elliot. They seemed so close. So—natural.

"You could put it that way," Jules said. "I'll get to that part later. So...anyway. Samantha miraculously reappeared. But she wouldn't say a word about where she'd disappeared to, not to anyone, and all kinds of rumors flew, everything from she'd been abducted by some psycho to she'd run off to a big city somewhere to live the wild life. Luckily, Quil's grandmother came over for a visit to see Mr. Uley one afternoon, and when she touched Sam's hand, she knew—the wolves were back."

Jules smiled a little.

"Things were a little better for Sam after that. The three elders—Old Quilla Ateara, my mom Bonnie, and Holly Clearwater all had seen their grandmothers make the change, and they knew all about the Quileute bloodline's weird powers. So they met with Sam and explained everything. She knew she wasn't going to be the only one affected by the vampires' return, so she simply waited—to see who would be next to change."

I didn't know how to respond. The Cullens had unwittingly triggered the transformation of Samantha, and later the others, when there had been peace for a generation. It made me feel uneasy. It felt like if my family had inadvertently hurt them, it as partly my responsibility, too.

"Samantha really hates them, you know," Jules said suddenly, as though she had heard what I was thinking. "For coming here. For causing her to change. She knew where her life was going before that—she had plans. She was going to go to college, make a life for herself. But she was forced to abandon it all. It changed where her life was headed...her entire fate."

"It wasn't intentional," I said quietly. "They didn't know."

Jules scoffed. "Sure makes a lot of difference now."

We were silent for a long minute. At last I said, "So, you said things were getting better, once the elders were involved. So what happened then? What about Lee and Elliot?"

Jules considered for a moment. "Yeah, things were better. But..."

Her brow furrowed, and she looked away. "She still had to keep her secrets. We aren't permitted to tell anyone who doesn't have to know, so she couldn't tell Lee a thing. Technically, she wasn't even supposed to be around him, it wasn't safe—she wasn't really in control yet. But she went to see him anyway, like I did you. Even though she couldn't tell him anything, not where she'd vanished to for two weeks, not where she went every night, and not why she was so tired all the time, she did whatever she had to just to see him.

"Lee was frustrated, he hated it—he wanted to know what was happening so he could help her. But, he cared about her enough that when Sam asked him to just trust her, he did. He stopped asking questions, and just accepted it."

"What happened?" I asked. "Did he find out the truth? Is that what made them split up?"

Jules shook her head. "I think Sam would have preferred it happened that way. No, it was more complicated than that."

Jules drew in a slow, even breath.

"Well, while all this was going on, Elliot Young—Lee's cousin—came down from the Makah reservation for a visit."

"They're cousins?" I said, startled.

Jules nodded. "Though to be honest, they were more like brothers. They grew up together as kids, and kept in contact even when they were apart. Lee confided in Elliot what had been going on and Elliot saw just how much of a toll it was taking on him—the longer time went on, the more Lee was starting to think Sam was involved in something really dangerous. Elliot wasn't usually the interfering type, but Lee was like a brother to him, and he made up his mind to do something. He thought if he could only meet Sam, he might convince her to tell Lee what was going on—if only she knew how hard all this was on him.

"Elliot had never met Sam, but he probably kind of felt like he knew her, because he'd heard so much about her from Lee. It was the same for Sam—she'd never met Elliot, but she'd heard about him from Lee."

I didn't like the place this story was heading, but I kept my mouth shut.

"So," Jules continued, "Elliot went down to the Uley house, and managed to catch Sam just before she was about to leave on her nightly patrol. She tried to brush him off, but he kept at it, and convinced her to take a walk with him.

"Well, he told her everything he'd set out to. How much this was all hurting Lee, and how, whatever was going on, she had to tell him. She couldn't go on keeping secrets like this, no matter how bad they were. He told her to just trust Lee with the truth, and he wouldn't let her down.

"Hearing all that was hard on Sam, and it made her angry. Especially since she knew it didn't change anything. She just told him to mind his own business, and was about to leave. Elliot grabbed her arm, and asked how, when Lee loved her so much, how she could not care—and she exploded."

Jules's eyes were faraway, and I could see the anguish in them—anguish from the memories she had experienced herself in Sam's mind.

"Like I said, she still wasn't in control then," Jules said quietly. "What Elliot said set her off, and she phased—right there. Elliot was probably lucky he wasn't killed. But he was still badly hurt. Samantha...she still has nightmares about that night. She'd never really realized just how dangerous she was until she saw herself hurt somebody—somebody that Lee cared about. She phased back almost immediately, but she was crying, almost hysterical—she carried him to the medical clinic on the reservation, without even thinking about how people might wonder how she could be so strong.

"Lee found out about it. It didn't take him too long to understand that Sam somehow blamed herself, even though everyone was told that Elliot had been out on the edge of the woods, and a bear wandering unusually far from its territory had mauled him. Again, Lee knew there was something Sam wasn't telling him, but like always, she didn't say anything.

"Meanwhile, the three elders met with Elliot. They explained everything, and he was sworn to secrecy, just like Sam.

"Through everything, Elliot never blamed Sam. He told her not to apologize for something she hadn't meant to do, that was outside her control, and he said he'd at least partially brought it on himself. He stopped trying to convince Sam to tell Lee the truth, but he did everything he knew to try to help their relationship. He encouraged Lee, kept telling him to just keep supporting Sam, trust her, and she was one of the best people he could know."

Jules sighed deeply.

"I think, in the end—and Sam thinks, too—it was the fact that Lee didn't know, and Elliot did. At least partly. Lee did his best to support her with what he knew, but just the fact that she had to keep the secret from him was a strain on her. But Elliot was supportive, kind, understanding—he was doing it for Lee's sake, trying to stand in for Lee and doing what he knew Lee would want done for Sam if only he could know the secret, and maybe because Elliot's just a nice guy. But at some point—I don't think any of them knows just when—things shifted. Sam's heart changed...and it was Elliot's support she needed more than Lee's."

I shook my head slowly. I had to admit, it was pretty bad.

"They were like brothers," I muttered to myself. "Brothers. Maybe her intentions weren't bad, but...how could she...?"

Jules sighed and shook her head. "It's not what you think. Sam didn't just call Lee up one day to break up and flit on over to Elliot. See, Elliot and Sam were probably in love long before either of them realized it—and it was Lee who saw it first. He'd always been pretty good at reading people, and he saw the shift as it was happening, but he couldn't do anything about it. He did his best to pretend it wasn't happening for awhile, but eventually Lee made the decision to leave her—he left her so she wouldn't have to continued to feel bound to him. Lee broke up with Sam, and he told her the reason why—that she was in love with Elliot.

"Sam denied it at first. She fought Lee hard, tried to convince him it wasn't true, and tried her best to get him back. But, at some point, she really realized that Lee was right about her feelings for Elliot. Elliot, for his part, had fallen for her, too, but never for a moment even considered acting on them—but when Sam finally accepted how she felt, things just kind of happened."

Jules shook her head. "You can't even imagine how Sam felt. See, Sam has this thing about honor—it's something she gets from her dad. She thinks you should always do the right, honorable thing, no matter how you feel. But, when it came to this...she lost control. Her feelings betrayed Lee. If Lee hadn't forced her to face up to it, she probably never would have acknowledged how she really felt—because for Sam, acting dishonorably was the worst thing imaginable. Even now, she still hates herself for what she did to Lee."

I sat for a long minute in silence, trying my best to digest all that.

"So," I said slowly. "Sam blames the wolf thing for all this."

Jules nodded. "In a way, yeah. Like I said, she feels like the wolf thing changed her fate. Turned her from the path her life would have taken originally. The wolf thing forced her into keeping a secret from Lee and that drove a wedge between them—they just couldn't be as close as they were before, and Lee couldn't support her like he wanted to. Knowing the secret, Elliot could support Sam in a way Lee couldn't."

Jules suddenly shrugged. "But, who knows. Maybe Elliot and Sam were soul mates or something, so even without the whole mystical tribal werewolf thing, they would have ended up falling for each other anyway. But I see why Sam feels like she does. Like, if not for the vampires who changed her into a wolf, things might be different now. One less person hurt and heartbroken."

Again we sat, quiet, gazing out at the ocean.

At last I said, "Love can be complicated."

"Tell me about it," Jules muttered.

"So how do you know all this?" I asked, just to break the silence.

Jules shrugged. "I told you, while we're wolves, we share a mind. So we see Sam's thoughts and she sees ours. She would never have told us any of this—but the whole pack knows about it."

I nodded. "Yeah, I know. But how do you know so much about what Lee was thinking? Is that just what Sam guessed?"

"Yeah, sure," said Jules, a little too quickly, looking away.

I eyed her suspiciously, but before I could ask anymore, she sighed.

"You know, it's probably just about the worst thing about being a wolf. No privacy, no secrets. You can't even keep other people's secrets. Most everyone tries to be cool about it, because we're all in the same boat, but if anyone ever wants to make a problem..."

"She knows everyone's weaknesses," I completed grimly. I shuddered. "That really does sound like the worst part of the deal. For your own head not to be safe."

"It is sometimes helpful when we need to coordinate," she allowed. "Occasionally. I just wish we had more control of what the others heard and saw. Then it would be awesome. Instant, silent communication over any distance."

She glanced at me curiously. "But isn't it like that for you all the time? _Her_ inside your head?"

I laughed. "No way. As much as she wants to—or think she wants to—she can't hear my thoughts. I'm the only one she's met like that. I can't believe I didn't tell you that."

Jules considered that. "Weird. Cool, but weird."

"She's not the only one," I continued, getting just a little smug now. "When we were in Italy, there were other vampire powers that didn't work on me either. Like...Sulpicia can read every thought you've ever had just by touching you. But when she tried it on me, it didn't work. And..." I hesitated. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to bring up Jonathan in front of Jules.

Jules looked at me, then grinned. "Wow, you are awesome. Either you've got some kind of wicked super power, or maybe your brain is just different from the rest of humankind. Like, there's something wrong with it."

"We have considered that possibility," I admitted ruefully.

"I bet that drives her absolutely crazy," Jules said, looking happy at the thought.

I grinned a little. "I think it does."

"Course, doesn't matter to me, since I can always tell what you're thinking," she said complacently, leaning back against the tree. "Maybe you're _weird_ weird, but unfortunately for you, I happen to be fluent."

I tried to frown, but I heard myself laugh instead. I looked over at her, smiling.

"I'm glad I came to see you today, Jules."

She smiled back. "Me too. Hope you don't get reamed too badly."

I sighed. "Don't worry, I'll stand and take it like a man. Stoic and everything."

Jules snorted. "I'll bet you will. She'll probably have grovelling at her feet, swearing you'll never do it again."

"Come on," I said, annoyed. "Give me more credit than _that_."

" _Will_ you come again then?" she challenged, though beneath the playful accusation, there was a note of real worry in her voice. A touch of longing, desperation.

"I don't know," I answered.

Jules looked away.

I grinned. "See, what Archie sees in the future is based on decisions. He said he was going to be just fifteen minutes away, but when I was at work, I just suddenly made up my mind to make a break for it, since I knew I was less than fifteen minutes from the boundary line. So right now...not sure if I'm going to come see you again, next time Edythe's away. Right now, I'm thinking probably not. But if the weather's good...conditions are right...I might just abruptly change my mind."

Jules threw her arms around me, squeezing so hard all the air rushed from my lungs and I was almost certain I felt a rib crack.

"You are _awesome_ , Beau. So awesome."

"Great," I gasped.

Jules let go of me, but as she pulled back, her hands lingered for a moment, one on my shoulder, the other on my back. Her smile faded slightly and her dark eyes were deep with emotion. Through my shirt, I could feel the heat of her skin burning against mine.

"I really missed you, Beau," she said softly.

"I missed you, too," I admitted.

I suddenly looked down at my watch, then sighed. "I really should be going."

She blinked. "But you just got here."

I nodded. "Does feel like it. But I told Allen I'd help him out with something, plus I know Archie's probably getting edgy by now...I don't want to push it too much."

Jules reluctantly pulled away from me, though her hand found mine and she squeezed it gently. "You'll come back soon?" she asked.

I smiled. "Maybe. I haven't decided yet."

Jules's answering smile was brilliant, warm and completely free of the mockery and bitterness that I knew from my memory.

"It's a promise. See you soon, Beau."

"A promise," I repeated, and I knew my own smile was just as wide as hers.

* * *

A/N: It's always so fun writing Beau and Jules's conversations. Next chapter is another scene I remember looking forward to, even all the way back when I was still first working on the rough drafts for New Moon Reimagined. (If you look at the author's note from Eclipse chapter 2, you can probably guess which one. xD Yeah, I don't know why I'm like this either.)

Thanks so much for reading! If you have a moment, let me know what you thought and if you have any questions—feedback really does help a ton in getting me excited for working on the next segment. (Especially when my brain is trying to stay immersed in Avatar. XD!) Have a very happy holiday, and see you next time~

Posted 12/20/16


	6. Switzerland

A/N: Hey! :J I was working fairly intensely on another project last week and I didn't quite get to this, and with the holiday this week and between doing family stuff I thought it might have to be pushed back until next week. But, somehow it got done after all. (Not sure what's going to happen with the next chapter though...That one's probably going to be a tough one. x3 It might take a little longer, too.)

Thanks for reading so far, and for all your wonderful comments last chapter! :D See you at the end~

* * *

Chapter 5: Switzerland

The sun had broken through the clouds, and shimmered on the wet road as I drove home. I was thinking about everything Jules had told me, trying to make sense of it. I couldn't imagine how hard it must be—dealing with usual teenage drama was bad enough, without piling supernatural concerns on top of it. It was a wonder no one had had a complete meltdown yet.

I was glad I had gone. It was relief to be able to talk to Jules, even about the hard things, and seeing her smile again was worth whatever I got when I got back. I'd been right, there hadn't been any danger...

These things were drifting in and out of my head as, when I happened to glance up at the rear view mirror, expecting to see empty road as I had a second before, there was suddenly a car there. A silver Volvo, glinting dangerously in the sunlight.

All my courage and bravado instantly evaporated, and I dropped my head, hunching my shoulders in an attempt to make myself a smaller target.

"I'm dead," I muttered.

I could have pulled over right then and talked to her. But I was completely not mentally prepared for that conversation yet, and I opted to keep right on going.

The Volvo rode my bumper with inches to spare, and I didn't look back once. I could feel the gaze burning a hole in my mirror, but I kept my eyes fastened to the road ahead all the way to Becca's house.

She kept right behind me the entire way. I pulled up along the curb, parking behind Allen's mom's minivan. The Volvo kept on going. I didn't turn to see the expression on her face.

I didn't get out of my truck until the Volvo was safely out of sight, and then I headed up the walk.

I rang the doorbell and I waited a minute before Becca answered it. She was looking a little harried, her short black hair a bit ruffled, her glasses slipping down her nose. When she saw me, her face brightened.

"Great! You're here—I'll take you upstairs, Allen's already started."

"Becky, dear, where are you?" called an affectionate, but slightly exasperated woman's voice from the other room.

"Coming, Mom!" Becca called back. "I'm just going to show Beau upstairs!"

She turned to me as we took the stairs two at a time. "Thanks so much for coming, Beau, you guys are the best. If you can address the announcements for me, that would be such a huge help. My mom's taking me out shopping for everything for the graduation party and to get the house ready for guests—we're putting up three cousins, two uncles and an aunt who are coming down for the ceremony and she wants everything nice and stocked. I think I'm going to go crazy."

"No problem," I said. "Just tell me what you want me to do."

Becca led the way up to a room I could only assume was her bedroom. It looked as though she'd hurriedly shunted the junk—an assortment of makeup, clothes, and comic books—aside to create a space of floor, where the stacks of envelopes with announcements waited.

My mouth fell open.

"Yeah, there's a lot," Becca said apologetically.

I stared at the mountains of white. There were more stacks on a desk at the back of the room and it wasn't until Allen raised his head from his writing that I saw he was behind them.

Becca handed me the list and showed me what to do. She'd set up a second makeshift desk with a couple of cardboard boxes and a piece of plywood.

"Becky!" her mother called again, a little more insistently this time.

"Coming, Mom!" she called back. She turned to us. "I've got to go." She looked at me. "Thanks for your help, Beau, really." Before she went for the door, she paused, and suddenly threw her arms around Allen, kissing him on the cheek.

"You are absolutely the best boyfriend _ever_!"

Allen was a little pink in the face as he muttered something that sounded like 'No problem' before Becca raced out the door as her mother yelled her name a third time.

Allen rubbed the back of his neck, still looking embarrassed.

"Legitimately, though," I said, as I went to take my seat at the second desk. "You are the best boyfriend ever. How many guys do you know who would do this?" I eyed the looming mounds of announcements.

Allen shrugged, still a little pink about the ears. "If Edythe needed help with something, you'd be there, wouldn't you?" he said, trying to deflect the compliment.

"Well, yeah," I admitted. However, after a moment I said, "Though to be honest, I can't remember the last time Edythe needed my help with anything."

Allen didn't seem to know what to say to that.

It occurred to me that most boyfriends did do stuff for their girlfriends. If a girl's car broke down, she could call her boyfriend to come down and fix it, or at least pick her up. Or if she was out late at night, her boyfriend would walk her home. But even if he wasn't a tough guy or an expert on cars, he could do stuff like Allen was doing now, silently help where he could, be a rock of support when she was stressed and freaking out. But Edythe never needed my help for anything. I'd taken care of my mom far more than I could ever hope to take care of Edythe.

Allen was looking at me out of the corner of his eye with concern, and I suddenly realized how gloomy my expression had turned at these disgruntling thoughts. I forced a grin. "Guess I better get started. We'll probably be here all afternoon."

"Bec has a lot of relatives," Allen said with a rueful chuckle.

We worked in silence for a while, nothing but the sound of our pens scratching across paper. I tried not to think about what would be waiting for me when I got back, but writing addresses was a repetitive task that didn't require much attention, and I couldn't stop myself fidgeting and glancing at my watch every so often.

"You've got somewhere you've got to be?" Allen asked at last when I sighed again. "Because I can do this. It's no problem."

I started at the sound of his voice and dropped my arm hastily. "No—no, I've got all day."

"You sure?" he asked. "Because if you wanted to spend the day with Edythe..."

I shook my head quickly. "No, Edythe's away for the weekend. Hiking with her family, you know."

Allen was studying me out of the corner of his eye, and I knew he was wondering why I was acting so strange.

I sighed. "I guess I'm just on edge. A bit."

"What about?" he said casually, eyes back on the envelope he was writing on.

"It's nothing," I said, with my best attempt at a nonchalant shrug. "Really."

Allen shrugged too, and didn't say any more.

I knew Allen wouldn't press me to talk about anything I didn't want to. He wasn't the prying type, morbidly curious about other people's business—he just honestly cared.

And maybe that was the reason I felt a sudden, uncharacteristic impulse to do just that: talk. A part of me was so tired of all the constant vampire-werewolf mortal enemies crap, I wanted to talk to someone from the normal world.

"Well, actually," I began. "It's Edythe. She's kind of pissed off at me."

Allen tried not to look surprised, but didn't quite manage it. "Is she?" he said. "I kind of find that hard to imagine."

I grinned a bit ruefully. "Yeah, you'd be surprised. She really has a temper when she gets to going. You don't want to get on her bad side."

Allen looked back at me, and I added quickly, "Not like she's temperamental, or flips out over little things or anything. She's not like that. It's more like...she gets passionate about things she feels are important."

Allen nodded slowly. "So what did you do to get her mad?" he asked. However, a second later he looked like he was regretting the way he'd phrased that. "I mean..."

I laughed a little at his expression. "That's about as diplomatic a way to put it as any," I said. "It really is my fault. Partially, at least."

I sighed, staring down at the blank envelope in front of me. "You know Julie Black down from La Push? She...kind of showed up at our school last week."

"Oh, yeah," Allen said, a little cautiously. "I sort of saw something was going on." He paused. "Edythe did look a little...upset."

I nodded. "Yeah. Jules is a good friend of mine. Kind of like family. But she and Edythe don't get along."

"So they're fighting over you?" Only Allen could say that with a straight face and legitimately concerned expression, and not a trace of teasing.

I shook my head. "No, it's not that. Edythe doesn't like me to be around Jules because—well, she sort of sees Jules as being some kind of bad influence or something, I guess. She thinks it's dangerous for me to be around her. I did get in trouble a few months back—you know, because of the motorcycle thing. But honestly, Jules may look rough around the edges, but she's not dangerous. Not too long ago, she helped me out a lot, but Edythe just doesn't understand."

Allen had turned away from his announcements, and was peering at me out of the corner of his eye with an expression that was hard to interpret.

"What?" I said. "What do you think?"

Allen shrugged slightly, and I knew I'd have to press him to spill what he was thinking.

"What?" I said again, grinning a little. "You think something else?"

"I don't know," he said hesitantly. "Julie Black _likes_ you, doesn't she? At least—" He colored slightly. "That's what I heard from McKayla."

I shook my head. I'd overheard a little of what McKayla was saying, but I wondered what she'd told the rest of the student body.

When I didn't reply, Allen continued, "I mean, you don't think Edythe could be just...you know...jealous?"

I hesitated for a moment, entertaining the possibility, then shook my head. "Edythe knows she's the only one for me. The only one ever. There's no contest. She's way too mature for things like that."

Allen shrugged again. "Well, maybe. But you know, she is a girl. And girls...I think sometimes they can get insecure kind of easy. Even if they don't seem like they have anything to be insecure about."

This distracted me enough to make me pause. Trying to imagine putting _Edythe_ and _insecure_ in the same sentence.

At last I shook my head and muttered, "I can't picture it. Edythe jealous." I sighed. "Anyway, whatever the reason, we've sort of been having a problem. Even if Edythe doesn't like her, Jules is still my friend. She's going through a rough time right now; I can't just not be there. I don't want to make Edythe anxious or insecure or whatever it is, but if I were the kind of guy who just up and ditched my friends when they needed me, I don't see how I could be even close to the kind of guy Edythe deserves."

Allen looked at me for a long moment, then he smiled. "You know, I wouldn't worry. I think if Edythe really cares about you, and I know she does, she'll come to see that, too. She'll appreciate you doing the right thing."

Allen turned back to his announcements and picked up his pen again. "In the meantime...I'd just try to cut her some slack. Just...let her have some space, and time to try to work through it. Girls' emotions can be complicated."

"Yeah," I said, sighing a bit. "Guess you're right."

Allen seemed to sense I'd said all I was going to say, and we both fell silent, and continued to work quietly.

We talked a little more off and on. What our plans were for college, what we were thinking about majoring in and where we would go. He was surprised when I told him about Alaska.

It wasn't until I mindlessly reached for the next envelope, putting my finger on the address book, when I looked down and realized we'd come to the end of the list.

"Hey," I said. "Did we finish?"

"Looks like it."

I helped him put on the stamps, then sat back in my chair, stretching.

"So," I said. "Now what?"

"Now I guess you're free," Allen answered. "I think that was all Bec was going to have us do. You can go home. I'll wait her for her to get back...Maybe I'll look at one of her comic books. She's always trying to get me to read them."

His eyes turned to the bookcase against the wall, but he didn't look all the enthused at the idea.

"You don't like comic books?" I asked, curious.

Allen shrugged. "Bec likes girls' comics. You know, like the ones you get from Japan. She has a word for them. Sho...Sho something."

"Oh." I followed his gaze to the books, and noticed the line of white bindings, some with bits of pale pink.

"Well, I could stay and keep you company," I offered. I really wasn't in any hurry to get home.

Allen opened his mouth to respond, but just then I heard the door slam and a voice shouted, "We're back!" I heard footsteps coming up the stairs.

Reluctantly, I got up from my chair. "Well, I guess that's my cue to go. I hate to be a third wheel. Have fun."

"Thanks for your help," he said. "It was more fun with the two of us."

"We should hang out more often," I said.

Allen nodded, and he looked pleased at the thought.

I wondered if it was a bad idea, letting myself get more attached to people I would soon be leaving and never see again. However, I decided not to think about that just now.

Becca's eyes popped when she saw we had finished and she thanked me profusely for my help, but she seemed relieved when I said I had to get going.

I probably looked like a fugitive as I crossed the driveway to my truck. My eyes kept scanning the road, and I glanced continually over my shoulder. However, the silver car wasn't there, and the road remained empty behind me on the drive back.

The silver car wasn't there when I got to the house, but I didn't relax. That only meant, if she was there, Charlie didn't know it. Which wasn't much of a comfort.

I heard the murmur of the TV as I went inside.

"Beau?" Charlie called from the living room as he heard the door slam. "That you?"

I kicked off my shoes in the hall, and paused in the living room doorway. "Hey, Dad. Yeah, it's me."

"Have a good day?" he asked. "I heard you went down to La Push."

"Bonnie called?"

He nodded. "I'm glad you went. How was everything?"

"Good," I said. "They didn't need me at work, so I thought I would drop by. Then I went over to Becca's, and Allen and I helped with addressing announcements."

"Good for you," he said. "Glad to see you spending time with some other friends."

I managed to smile a little. "Yeah, me too."

I stood there a minute, as Charlie turned his attention back to the game. I seriously considered sitting down with him and watching the it with him, but then he would know something was up. I went to the kitchen, looking for something to do, but Charlie had already cleaned up after his lunch, and I'd already cleaned the whole kitchen recently, so there wasn't anything to do.

I sighed to myself. Well, time to man up and go face my punishment.

"I'm going to go study," I said gloomily, turning for the stairs.

"See you later," Charlie called absently.

Fatalistically, I wondered if that would be the last thing I ever heard.

I slowly walked up the stairs, one step at a time. As I passed inside, I spent a minute carefully shutting the door behind me. Then I took a silent breath and slowly turned to face my room.

She was there. Standing against the wall across from me, in the shadow beside the open window. She was perfectly still. For a moment I couldn't see her face beside the blinding glare of the sunlight streaming in from outside, and it took a moment for my eyes to adjust.

She was cold as a winter snow, her face carved in marble. Her eyes were hard as flint.

When the silence lengthened, at last I said, "Hey."

Edythe didn't answer. She didn't move. She could have been a statue.

"Er...so, I'm still alive," I said at last.

Edythe closed her eyes. She took a deep breath, then let it out again. However, when she opened her eyes again, they were still hard.

She said in a low, almost delicate voice, "Do you have any idea how close I came to crossing the line today?"

I felt something cold drop in my stomach. "But that would have broken the treaty."

"Yes," she said evenly. "It would have."

I shook my head. "Edythe, you can't think like that. You have no idea—they'd take any excuse for a fight. It would be chaos. Some of you would get hurt—maybe killed."

"So you know what you almost did," Edythe said in a low voice.

I flinched. However, now that I was here, I was determined not to be intimidated.

"You shouldn't have been thinking about coming after me," I insisted. "I was fine."

"But I couldn't know that," she snapped. "They're dangerous—you have no idea how dangerous they are. Especially _her_. She isn't stable. She can't control herself."

"Jules is not dangerous," I said, angry. "She's no more dangerous to me than you are."

I blinked. Edythe had disappeared from where she was standing by the window, and she was suddenly right in front of me, her face inches from mine. I stared into her eyes, and saw they were flat black.

"She doesn't have self-control," she hissed. "Nowhere near enough to be safe. If her instinct to kill you was a tenth of mine—I'd kill her sooner than let her within a hundred miles of you."

I stared back at her, into her fierce expression. I tried to hold onto my own glare, but after a moment, my eyes dropped away from hers. I stood there, quietly stunned.

There was silence for a full minute, nothing but the sound of my breathing, coming too fast in the quiet. When I looked back up at her again, her face had softened slightly, though only a little.

"You have no idea how anxious I've been," she said quietly.

I was still for a moment longer. Then I sighed and put my arms around her, resting my chin on her head. I could feel the chill of her hard body through my shirt.

"Sorry," I muttered. "You weren't supposed to know. I thought you'd be gone longer."

I pulled back a little, hooking my fingers under her chin to make her look up at me. She complied with the movement and I gazed down into her coal black eyes.

"You didn't hunt at all," I sighed. "Now you're just going to have to go again."

I felt Edythe's icy hands reach up to hold mine. She stroked the tip of her finger along my wrist.

"I can wait," she said softly.

I shook my head and pulled away from her.

"Edythe, this is ridiculous. You're completely overreacting. Jules isn't dangerous—I spent _weeks_ around her when she just barely changed, and she's completely got a handle on it now. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for the wolves. Their instinct is to protect people, not hurt them. Look—I'm not going to promise not to go down to La Push. Jules has been there for me and I'm going to be there for her when she needs it. So...please. Try to relax. Nothing bad is going to happen."

Edythe's expression was flat, unyielding. "This isn't a negotiation, Beau. If you're going to try to put yourself in harm's way, you give me no choice but to have to stop you. I do appreciate what they did—but that was then, and this is now."

Maybe I was just mad, but I found myself thinking about the conversation with Allen. Before I could stop myself, I heard myself blurt, "Is this _really_ just about keeping me safe?"

Edythe betrayed only the barest hint of surprise. "What do you mean?" she said cautiously, suspiciously.

Now that I'd said it, I had to finish, though the theory sounded even more ridiculous and unlikely than before. Backing down a little, I muttered, "I mean...you know better than to be...jealous, right?"

Edythe hesitated. She studied me for a long minute, a deep slash of thought in her brow.

At last she said, "Whatever my feelings are, I would never stop you from doing something you wanted to do if your safety wasn't involved. You're free to have as many friends as you want. Just not when one of them is a werewolf."

As I looked into her eyes, I couldn't doubt that she was sincere.

"Okay," I said, sighing. "Sorry, I shouldn't have said that. But you should know when it comes to all this werewolves-vampire bad blood crap—I'm not taking any sides. I'm neutral, like..." I searched around for an appropriate metaphor. "Switzerland. If you guys are determined to duke it out, I'm the country outside all the politics. Jules is family, and nothing's going to change that. And you're the girl I love more than anything, and nothing's going to change that. If Allen turns out to be a sorcerer or something he can join the club, too."

Edythe regarded me for a long minute, her expression unfathomable.

"Switzerland," I said again.

Edythe sighed. "Beau..." However, she paused, and her nose suddenly wrinkled with disgust.

I frowned. "What now?"

"Don't take this personally," she said. "But at the moment you smell like a dog."

Then her face relaxed and she smiled up at me, showing her dimples. And I knew the fight was over—for now.

* * *

Edythe had to make up for the missed hunting trip, so it was arranged that she would leave Friday night with Eleanor, Jessamine, and they'd even convinced Carine and Earnest to go, too. The plan was to hit a reserve in Northern California with a mountain lion problem.

I figured after our conversation, I'd made my position pretty clear, and there was no point playing more games with trying to time snap decisions. That was really too complicated for me to make work anyway. So I just straight up called Jules and said I meant to come over Saturday, adding I might have to have her pick me up, if my truck was acting up. I considered Forks and my house neutral territory, just like I was. I knew Edythe might not like it, and we hadn't really come to an agreement on the issue, but this was just the way things had to be. Edythe would learn not to worry so much when nothing happened.

Unfortunately, when I'd conceived my plans, I'd failed to take into account how resourceful Edythe could be. And literally inhumanly stubborn.

When I got off from work Thursday, I was a little surprised when I went out to the silver Volvo in the parking lot and found, not Edythe in the driver's seat, but Archie.

The volume on the stereo was turned up all the way, the heavy metal shaking the frame of the car with every beat of the bass, and as I leaned my head in through the passenger door, which was open, I had to shout to be heard.

"Hey, where's your sister?"

Archie was singing along to the song, imitating the guttural voice, though he had better pitch than the singer. He didn't answer, only gestured for me to get in.

I did, though I had to plug my ears to keep my eardrums from bleeding.

Archie grinned broadly, then obligingly turned down the music to a more tolerable level. Then he hit the locks and the gas in the same second.

"What's going on?" I said. Dropping my hands and frowning. "Where's Edythe?"

Archie shrugged. "They left early."

"Oh," I said. My frown deepened. "And we are...?"

Archie's responding grin was brilliant. "All the women are gone, so you and I, Beau-man, are going to be doing guy stuff. First, you're going to drink so much Mountain Dew you won't sleep for days, and naturally there will be pizza—think three boxes will be enough? And I got us the deluxe package with over seventy-two hours of martial arts films—not the new, trashy junk, but the old, classic stuff."

I glared at him, as it finally settled in what was happening. "Edythe put you up to this." It wasn't a question.

"Bribed me, actually," he said, without the least hint of shame. "She finally got me that Porsche she promised me. Exactly like the one in Italy. Earnest already got this all cleared up with Charlie before he left. Basically, you come back with me tonight, we go to school tomorrow together, I bring you back here, and Edythe will be back by Saturday. No dangerous werewolf encounters, everybody goes home happy."

I gritted my teeth.

I watched the trees flash past too fast as we wound down the long drive. Archie swung us around to the garage, and my eyes scanned the cars. Eleanor's jeep was there, as was Royal's red convertible. And nestled between it was, sure enough, a wasp-yellow Porsche.

Archie got out and loped over to it. He draped an arm casually over the hood and sighed, staring down at it lovingly. "A beauty, isn't she?"

I shook my head. "Unbelievable. I can't believe she gave you _that_ just for keeping me hostage for a couple days. You guys are so extravagant."

Archie paused, glancing back at me. His grin was apologetic. "Uh, about that."

I looked back at him a minute before it finally dawned on me.

"It's for every time, isn't it? Every time she's gone."

Archie nodded. "Pretty much, yeah."

I slammed my door hard and stormed toward the house. Archie caught up to me easily, hands casually in his pockets.

"Don't you think this is kind of controlling?" I muttered. "Psychotic, maybe?"

Archie shrugged. "You really should take the werewolf thing more seriously. They _are_ dangerous—Edythe's got more than a right to be worried, especially when I can't see them. 'Fraid I'm on Edy's side on this one."

"Yeah, because hanging out with vampires is the pinnacle of safety consciousness," I muttered. Archie laughed.

In the end, it really wasn't that bad, besides the fact I was a prisoner. Archie had bought an entire case of Mountain Dew, and ordered pizza—four pizzas, which was way overkill as I knew I was the only one eating anything, but I got a sample of everything; the veggie kind was my favorite. Archie had gotten movies, too, though they weren't all old martial arts films, and I was surprised at how many were actually my favorites. Evidently, he'd done his homework. Royal was there too, drifting in from time to time to grab something. I did my best to pretend he wasn't there. I wondered why he hadn't gone with the others. Maybe he was backup enforcement, in case I tried to give Archie the slip.

"So," said Archie, as we headed to the kitchen to drop off the now empty bowl of popcorn. He tossed me another can of Mountain Dew. "Should we push on 'til morning?"

I frowned and set the can back on the counter.

"You may not need sleep, but _I_ do. And I've got school in the morning."

"You're no fun." Archie took another can of Dew from the case and eyed it warily for a moment, then shrugged and cracked the lid, taking a swig.

I stared at him. "Doesn't that taste bad to you?"

Archie tanked at least half the can before he let his hand drop, casually wiping his mouth. " _Really_ bad," he said. "Like bubbling wet sand. But it's not a about the taste, it's about the camaraderie. Sorta like you don't stay up at a late party because you _want_ to, you do it to be sociable. So you don't end up being _that guy._ "

I raised my eyebrows. "But I am _that guy_. First to go home at parties, does all his homework, goes to bed early on school nights. I'm a model student, and rock bottom of the social scene. I think it's better if we just accept that and move on."

Archie sighed dramatically. "And to think, I drank Mountain Dew for you."

My eyes wandered toward the stairs. "So where am I sleeping anyway? I know you don't keep beds here. Why can't you just keep me under surveillance at my house?"

"Obviously, it wouldn't be a real guys' night with parental supervision," he said. "And you'll be sleeping in Edy's room. I set out some pillows and a blanket on the couch. Trust me, you'll probably find that thing more comfortable than your bed at home."

I could well believe it. The Cullens had the best and highest quality of absolutely everything. The thick gold carpet of her floor was probably luxurious enough to sleep on.

"Okay," I said. "Did you remember to grab me a toothbrush? And something to sleep in?"

Archie grinned. "Overnight bag's in Edy's room. You'll find everything you need in there."

"Thanks. Guess I'll go to bed now then." However, before I got to the stairs, I hesitated a moment, turning back.

"Am I at least allowed one phone call?"

Archie shrugged. "No point. I told you, your old man knows where you are."

I frowned. "Actually, I apparently have some plans to cancel."

Archie's eyebrows raised. "Ooh, I got ya." He paused. "Yeah, man, I don't know. I'm not sure if that's okay..."

"Come _on_ ," I said, exasperated. "What's she going to do, go wolf and growl at me through the phone?"

Archie sighed. "All right, all right. Chill out." He vanished from the room, and when he reappeared, he had a black cell phone in hand. "I guess she didn't specifically prohibit this," he muttered.

I turned my back to him and punched in Jules's number. I could only hope she wasn't out running with the pack tonight. I wondered what would happen if I didn't show up, with no explanation. Would she come looking me, cross the boundary line as Edythe had threatened to do? I didn't think so—yet I couldn't be totally sure.

I sagged with relief when Jules picked up the phone on the fourth ring.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Jules, it's me."

There was a moment of silence on the other end and when Jules spoke again, her voice was cautious. "Hey. What's up?"

I sighed. "Apparently Saturday's off. I won't be making it over after all."

Jules muttered some epithet. "What's her deal? Does she keep you chained to her crypt whenever she leaves town?"

I almost laughed. It was close to the truth. "Sorry. Apparently the plans changed. She'll be back Saturday."

"Sticking close to town, then?" she said. "Or _in_ town?"

The implication in her scathing tone was clear, but I didn't react. I was peeved enough with all these games myself.

"No, she just left early."

Jules perked up at this. "She's gone? Well hey, why don't you come down right now? Or I'll head up over there to Charlie's and pick you up, doesn't matter."

"That would be nice, if I was at home right now," I said, glaring at the kitchen wall. "We've been kind of thwarted this time. They've been very...thorough."

There was a moment of silence on the other end.

"Jules?" I said at last, wondering if she had hung up.

"What?" she said at last, her voice abruptly angry, demanding. "Are they holding you prisoner there, Beau? We'll come and get you. Right now."

The sudden deadly serious tone in her voice sent a chill down my spine.

I kept my voice light, tried to make a joke out of it. "Yeah, I'm prisoner. I've had so much pizza and Mountain Dew I think I'm going to puke. Archie's diabolical, I'm telling you."

Jules hesitated. "I really would come and get you," she said, though I was relieved her tone had eased a little. "If you needed me to, I'd be there in a heartbeat."

"It's okay," I said. "Everything's good. I understand why they're doing it, even if it sucks."

"It really does," Jules muttered.

"Sorry to ditch out on you like this," I said. "I'm going to try to get some sleep, but I'll give you a ring again soon."

"Are you sure they'll let you?" she said scathingly.

"No," I said honestly, sighing. "But I'll do my best. Night, Jules, hope to talk again soon."

"Okay. See you."

Archie reached out for the phone, but I was already dialing another number.

Archie watched my fingers and said, "I don't think she'll have her phone on her."

"Good thing she's got a message machine."

The phone rang four times, followed by a beep. There was no greeting.

I decided to keep it succinct. "You are in trouble. Court-martial, inappropriate conduct-level trouble. Expect your sentencing when you get back."

I snapped the phone shut and tossed it to Archie. "That's all. I'm done."

Archie grinned. "You know, this hostage stuff is kind of fun."

"I'm going to bed now," I muttered, heading toward the stairs.

I found the overnight duffel stashed beside Edythe's couch, closest to the door. I got changed and brushed my teeth in the bathroom across the hall. Archie had also packed me some mouthwash, and I used it to cleanse my pepperoni breath.

I situated myself on the couch, throwing the blanket over myself and putting the large pillow under my head. Archie was right—the plush, black leather sofa probably did give my back better support than my bed at home.

I laid there in the darkness, staring out at the glass wall, at the moon glowing in the dark sky. Again I found myself thinking about the wolves. About the stories Jules had told me, and the seemingly timeless hatred between the wolves and the vampires. I wondered if there really might be a way to bridge the gap, make them all see they really wanted the same thing, or if it was stupid and naïve to think an ordinary guy like me could have any impact on a mythical, centuries-long feud.

I really wished I was seeing Jules tomorrow, or Saturday. Of course it was always a little tense these days, and I had to ride out all the jabs at vampires, but I could deal with that. What I couldn't deal with was this feeling like I never could know the next time I would see or speak to her again.

I'd been laying there, mulling these things over, for maybe a quarter of an hour when I sighed and sat up again. I really couldn't get to sleep. I blamed Archie and the endless cans of Mountain Dew he'd forced down my system.

I crept carefully downstairs to the immaculate kitchen. Archie had shown me earlier that he'd gotten it completely stocked before I came, mostly with junk food. I thought I remembered seeing a box of chocolate milk mix somewhere, which was what I was after. Hot chocolate sounded good right now, and sometimes hot drinks put me to sleep. I poured some milk into a mug and put it in the microwave to heat.

I didn't know anyone else was there until I heard a low cough behind me.

I grumbled to myself. "No, I'm not staying up," I insisted. "I couldn't sleep, and I just wanted to get something to..." As I spoke, I half turned around.

I blanched when I saw it wasn't Archie standing there, but Royal.

Royal's powerful arms were folded, and he was leaning casually against the island counter. He was perfectly still.

"Oh," I said in a small voice. "I, uh, thought you were Archie."

Royal didn't answer, arms still folded.

"Were you, uh, looking to get into the fridge? I'll be out of here soon..."

I shifted over closer to the microwave, so I wouldn't obstruct the way, then could have smacked myself. Moron, of course he didn't need in the fridge.

"Um," I said, croaking a little on the word. "I'll be going back upstairs soon." I looked at the microwave, willing it to go faster.

Royal looked at me, with his usual piercing, icy gaze. When he spoke, his voice was deep and powerful, but soft, like a lion's purr. "Just a second. I'd like to have a word with you."

* * *

A/N: Not much to say this time, except that this was a fun chapter to work on. (Though I guess they all are, each in their own way.) Thanks so much for reading! C: If you have a moment let me know what you thought, and see you next time!

Posted 1/19/17


	7. Human

A/N: Hey there, back again. :3

Not much to say this time, except there was a few more slightly more substantial changes this chapter.

Thanks for reading so far, and for all your comments. See you at the end! :J

* * *

Chapter 6: Human

"I'd like to have a word with you."

"Um, okay," I managed. I didn't meet his eyes, and instead found myself staring at the perfection of toned muscle definition that was his arms. Compared to Royal, I was a toothpick. But it wasn't so much that that scared the crap out of me as that I knew Royal was the one member of the Cullen family who really didn't like me.

Royal considered me for a long moment. At last he said abruptly, "Did Edythe ever tell you the story of how I...came to be what I am now?"

I hesitated. I swallowed to get my voice back. "Not much. Just that...there was something about a girl, and the mafia. And you almost died."

Royal's smile was hard. "That's right. Though that leaves a few gaps."

"Oh." I couldn't think of anything more intelligent to say. My brain was still hung up on the fact that Royal was actually talking to me. And if he was going to talk to me, why this subject in particular. Royal didn't strike me as the kind of person who cared to share his past with anyone.

Almost as though he had read my mind, he suddenly shook his head, then looked me in the eye. "Fact is," he said, "if I were in your shoes, I wouldn't be doing what you're doing."

At my confused expression, he explained, "Giving up your humanity for this life—this life without change. I wouldn't do it. I'm not going to tell you what to do, but I will tell you about my life, and why you might just want to rethink this."

Royal's eyes were far away as he gazed out the dark kitchen window.

"It was nineteen thirty-three," he began quietly. "I was eighteen, and I had everything—I was the son of a banker who, though we were technically only middle class, had money enough that we didn't suffer from the Depression like many others. I was never troubled by the poor I saw in the streets—they had brought it upon themselves, so my father often said. So long as my mother and my two sisters were well cared for, as they were, I wasn't troubled unduly. I was the envy of all the other men in town—I was strong as they came, no one dared pick a fight with me. Women wanted me. They positively clamored for my attention."

Royal's smile was self-mocking.

"I was a fool. A peacock, enamored with my own fine looks and strength. I was determined to marry wealth and status—I didn't doubt I possessed all the charm I could ever need to win over any woman I set my eye on. I wanted to be powerful, I wanted to be known. I meant to own property and have a large house cared for by servants. In other words—I was looking to be a king."

His mouth twisted with irony. "It was at that time that I met her—Rowena King. She was the daughter of the man who owned the bank at which my father worked. In a sense, they were about as close to royalty as our city had. She was beautiful—she turned the head of every man who walked by her. From the first moment I laid eyes on her, I knew—she was everything I wanted.

"So I set my sights on Rowena King, and from that day I did everything I could to woo her. My parents were pleased—if I were to marry Rowena King, it would add to their own prominence significantly, and that would put me next in line to take over the bank after her father. For her father's part, he seemed to like me very much—I had the looks, a face that would be more than suitable for the next bank president. I looked like her perfect match, and that was enough for me to be everything he could want for his precious daughter. And for her part, she seemed happy at my attentions, too."

Royal's features held a touch of hard amusement. "I'm sure this must seem like an empty life of vanity and selfish ambition to you."

I didn't think it safe to answer, so I didn't.

Royal gave a growl of a chuckle, though there was no humor in it. "It was certainly that. I'm not proud of the animal I was—but there was more than that I wanted. Things of real value, beyond power and money.

"Among my crowd of usual associates, there was one who was a little different from the others. Vick Thomas, a couple years older than myself, and about as plain a man as there ever was. He was often compared to me in jest—while I was graceful as a lion, he'd always been a little duckfooted, and he was thin and sickly, and his teeth were a bit too large. When he married a poor, even plainer girl from out west, we all laughed uproariously at his expense.

"However, once, almost a year after his marriage, during which time he hadn't crossed my mind once, I happened to see him while I was out in the city. He was with his wife, and she had a baby in her arms.

"The sight was enough to send my thoughts shooting in a new direction, and I realized with some horror that I envied the friend we had all so ridiculed and despised. I still relished all the glory and attention, but I also realized I wanted a family of my own, too. I wanted to have a household to care for, a beautiful wife on my arm, and a child in her arms, a boy who I would show how to ride and be a man. Or perhaps a girl who would be as beautiful as her mother, who I would shelter, and would look to me for safety and protection.

"In Rowena King, I knew I'd have everything I ever wanted—she would be the wife I dreamed of, beautiful, and she would make me a king. And soon I would have my family, too."

Royal was still gazing out the window, at the silver light playing on the tips of the trees. However, a shadow seemed to pass across his face then, and his eyes were hard.

"It was dark out, that night, the lamps already lit. I'd been out finalizing some of the arrangements for our wedding, and didn't realize how long I'd been out. It was chilly for April, and I turned the collar of my coat up against the cold."

Royal was quiet for a long moment then, and I was tense as I waited for him to continue.

Royal's expression was inscrutable as he went on evenly, "As I reached a street barely a few blocks from my own home, that was when I saw her. A woman, out on the street alone, a hood up over her head. It seemed strange to me—it was not safe, a woman out alone at this time of night. I considered offering to escort her home.

"I saw her dodge into an alleyway. I knew it was none of my business, but curiosity got the better of me. I followed her, going to stand just at the alley's mouth. It was dark, and I could see nothing at first. Then I heard her speak, and I immediately knew who she was.

"'Row?' I said, confused, and I stumbled blindly into the alley. I was alarmed to see her out her at this time of night. It would be dangerous enough for any young woman, but a girl so well known as she was would be a particular target.

At last my eyes adjusted to the dark, and I saw at last she wasn't alone. She had half turned in surprise at the sound of my voice. And I saw a man there, in the shadows, his arms wound around her, and her arms about his neck.

"I knew immediately that this man was not from polite society. Or any society I had ever known. The clothing he wore, the style of his hair—they were all alien to me. I stood there for a moment, confused, struck dumb. Had she been taken hostage? But no, I recognized the familiar touch of lovers. Rowena had rarely touched me, never embraced me as a lover. I had believed it was because she was raised in only the politest of society, because she was of the best possible breeding, and would only be mine once we were married.

"Before I could recover myself enough to react, I watched as Rowena's surprised expression relaxed into one of almost amusement. She looked at me with cold, taunting eyes, and said, 'Well, well. If it isn't my dull-witted, fool of a fiancé.'

"'Row—' I began, but suddenly more of them appeared from nowhere. There were two men in front of me, one behind me. All dressed like the man who had his arms around my bride to be.

"Rowena turned in his arms to look at me, her hands pressed to his chest, and she smiled—a smile that made the blood freeze in my veins.

"'Well,' she said. 'We certainly can't have this—we can't have Royal Hale spreading nasty rumors about me to my father, and around town. What would they think?'

"'So what should we do, love?' breathed the man in her ear. I watched as he bent his head and pressed his mouth to her throat.

"'Mmm,' she murmured. 'I suppose you'll have to take care of it...you will, won't you?'

"He let go of her then, and he turned to face me, grinning so wide I could see his gold molars, one on each side of his mouth. He pulled something from his belt, something long and sharp that gleamed in the dull lamplight.

"They were all around me. I raised my eyes to Rowena one last time, as she stood behind her lover and his men. I hoped she would tell them to stop. Beg them to. But as she watched me, her eyes were full of nothing but laughter.

"Her lover advanced on me, raising his weapon—I saw they all had objects of various kinds—and though I was outnumbered, I raised my fists to fight.

"But before any advanced, I felt something hard strike the back of my head. I staggered, then collapsed to the cold road. I felt something wet on the back of my head, and as I turned, I saw blood spreading out on the ground beside me."

Royal's face was cool and even, but I felt sick as I imagined the scene in my mind.

"They took turns beating me," he said evenly. "They cut my skin to ribbons and broke my bones—By the time they were done, I was unrecognizable.

"The pain was unbearable—I couldn't move. I'm sure they believed I was dead. The last thing I remember was the sound of Rowena's voice, as she left with her lover and his men.

'...Really, Father will be disappointed. But I prefer it this way. Even to _pretend_ to love such an empty-headed, arrogant fool of a man was such a burden.'

"I waited there to die. The cold penetrated my bones, sinking deep, even through the pain. I wanted it to end. For it all just to end...

"That was when _she_ found me. I had met Carine before, and her husband and younger sister, as Edythe was pretending to be then. Carine was a nurse at the local hospital, who I had occasionally seen out doing charity work for those sickened by the Depression—the dust was making many ill, and bad nutrition for many had more and more flooding into the hospitals.

"I was annoyed when I saw her there, even as she worked over me, trying to save my life. The few times I'd seen the Cullen family, I hadn't cared for them. I had to admit, the man was even more good-looking than I was, and even more, there was something I didn't like about the way the women carried themselves. Too confident. Carine was so calm, self-assured, as though she believed herself as capable as any _real_ doctor, and the sister went about without seeming to feel the need for an escort.

"Some of what happened then is a blur to me now—Carine carried me away from there, took me somewhere else. By then I was fast fading, darkness taking over my consciousness—then I felt a sharp pain in my hand, and I was on fire, burning...burning...I told her to kill me, and when the two others, Edythe and Earnest, returned, I screamed at them to kill me too. I wished I had brought my revolver so I might do it myself, but I had no control over my limbs anyway.

"Carine apologized softly, many times, and told me it would be over soon.

"I don't know how I bore it—the pain seemed to stretch on an eternity. But toward the end the pain slowly lessened, and I grew stronger, strong enough to hear the others discussing me.

"'This was a mistake, Carine,' I heard Edythe say—I already knew her name by that time. ' _Royal Hale_?'

I was irritated by the way she said my name. As though it left an unpleasant aftertaste in her mouth.

"'I couldn't simply leave him there to die,' Carine answered quietly. 'It was too terrible—too much of a waste.'

"'Of course you couldn't,' agreed Earnest. 'You did the right thing.'

"'People die all the time,' Edythe answered harshly. 'And Royal Hale is too recognizable. The Kings will search for him—not that anyone will suspect the _daughter_ had anything to do with it. If anyone deserves to _disappear_..."

"'Please, Edythe,' Carine said gently. 'Let's not have that kind of talk.'

"However, this was one thing in all the unbearable burning agony that pleased me—these people seemed to know what had really happened.

"'What are we going to do with him?' Edythe asked, as though I were a problem that would need to be taken care of.

"'That's up to him, of course,' Carine answered. 'He can stay with us, or he may choose to go his own way. It will be his choice.'

"The pain finally came to an end, and they explained everything, what had happened, what I now was. And as Carine had said, they gave me a choice. I chose to stay—I had nowhere else to go. I knew they were the only family I had."

Royal's cool, even expression was unchanged. However, then the corner of his lip turned up in a grim smile. "I only left Carine and the rest of the family once—briefly. To take care of some unfinished business."

I gazed back at him uncertainly, and his smile widened further. In his hard eyes was a flicker of smugness, almost pleasure.

"This will probably surprise you, but my record's almost as good as Carine's. Better than Earnest, and a hundred times better than Edythe's. I've never tasted a human's blood—but I did kill five humans."

Royal chuckled, low and cold. "I tracked down all the men who had been there that night. I killed them each one by one—slowly. I saved her lover for last. Then, one night when she came to meet him, secretly, as she always did, I was there instead. I dropped the body of her lover at her feet. She didn't laugh then."

We were both silent for a long minute, Royal drifting off into a quiet reverie, me, trying to keep my stomach from twisting as the images played themselves through my head.

However, Royal snapped back to reality. He shook his head. "Sorry," he said gruffly, "Maybe that's a bit too much information."

His eyes returned to me, and his gaze seemed to bore into mine. His eyes suddenly held an intensity beyond anything I'd seen when he told the story of his human life.

"I know I haven't been all that nice to you," he said. "I'm over any of the idiotic reasons I might have had at the start, and I won't ever forget what you did for my sister."

He hesitated. "But you should understand why it gets under my skin. When you already have everything, when you've got everything I'd want if I could have it, and you're just going to throw it away like it's nothing. I'd choose humanity over this immortal, unchanging life if I could—what I was seeking in my human life before was empty, nothing more than an indulgence in vanity. I wish now I might have been born a bit more ordinary, like Vick Thomas, had a normal family, with a normal wife and children. I wasted the gift of human life I had seeking blindly after power and reveling in wealth and looks. If you join us, you will be powerful, you will exist forever, but you will lose everything that matters. The potential for the best things in a human life will be lost to you."

I didn't know what to say, so I didn't answer. I wanted to get along with Royal. He was part of Edythe's family, and I considered him like a brother, if one that intimidated me a bit. But I knew I couldn't promise the thing he wanted to hear.

"That's all," Royal said, unfolding his arms. "I know you're stubborn. As stubborn as Edythe, I think, which is saying something. But you should think about that. Think, before you do something you can't take back."

Royal pushed up from the counter and started to turn away, then paused and looked back. There was a kind of half amused smile on his lips.

"Did Edythe ever tell why it was I didn't like you there at first?"

I shrugged. "She said...it bothered you. Having someone on the outside know."

"Did she?" He chuckled. "That little liar."

I looked away, not sure if I wanted to know the real reason he didn't like me.

"I suppose there's some truth in that," he said. "But the real reason's a bit less flattering."

Again, he laughed, shaking his head. "I was used to women wanting me. But Edythe never showed even the slightest hint of interest. She warmed to me as a sister—eventually, after years of mutual antagonism—but as far as that kind of preference, I could have been a foul, shriveled old man for all she acted. But she was never interested in anyone. Even when we met Tanvir and his brothers at Denali, and Tanvir made advances, she was unmoved. So when she ended up picking _you_...I admit, it irritated me to no end."

I didn't answer at first. I was afraid if I did, my voice would squeak—thinking I might have competition in the absolute ideal specimen of a man that was Royal was a petrifying thought.

"But what about Eleanor?" I asked at last.

Royal's mouth was still twisted in that same almost self-mocking smile. "It certainly wasn't my finest moment. To have my ego bruised by a girl whose affections I wouldn't have even cared to have anyway. But, I'm over all that now."

As Royal passed the island counter and headed for the other room, again he paused. "You're right," he said suddenly, in a low, rough voice. "I do have Eleanor...That's the one redeeming thing of this life. But we will never have a family, never grow old together. I outlived both my parents, and my sisters. Eleanor and I are frozen as we are now, and have to live in isolation, cut off from the rest of the world. If I'd had a choice for the two of us, I wouldn't have chosen that."

Then Royal was gone, and I realized my milk was still in the microwave. I heated it up again and mixed in the chocolate. As I stood there, quietly sipping my drink, I thought about everything Royal had said. Having a family, growing old. A normal life.

If Edythe were a normal girl, then I'd probably want a normal life, too. Just like that—a steady job so I could take care of her, a nice home to raise our kids.

But Edythe was not a normal girl, and so a normal life held no interest for me. The only way I could become someone who could do things for her, instead of always the other way around, was for me to become like her. Join her world. And so, nothing anyone could say would change my decision.

I went back upstairs. In spite of the hot chocolate, with everything Royal had told me it was a while before I finally drifted off to sleep.

Still, even in unconsciousness my mind continued to work, and I had a dream. I was laying on the cold pavement of an alleyway, beside a tall chain link fence. As I struggled to drag myself forward, inch by inch, blood pooled from a wound in my side, and I left a dark trail in my wake. I felt someone watching me, but I didn't turn to look, as a laughing woman's voice whispered in my ear. _"Dead men tell no tales..."_

The next morning, I was irritable as I got into the Volvo passenger side, and Archie took off for school. I hadn't slept well, and that only gave me more of an attitude than usual.

"Tonight, we'll drive down to Olympia," Archie said with a grin, chipper as ever. "Or wherever you want. How's that sound?"

"Why don't you forget the sugarcoating, and just gag me and throw me in the basement?" I grumbled.

Archie sighed. "Come on, man, work with me here. She's totally going to take the Porsche back. You're supposed to be having a good time."

I couldn't believe I actually felt slightly bad. "It's not you," I muttered as I climbed out of the car. "See you at lunch."

I trudged off to English. There, my mood didn't improve any, not with Edythe's chair conspicuously empty.

When the bell finally rang, I got up without much enthusiasm. McKayla joined me as I headed out into the light rain.

"Did Edythe go hiking again this weekend?" she asked conversationally.

"Yeah," I said with a heavy sigh. "She doesn't get back until Saturday."

"You have any plans for while she's away?" she asked casually.

"Yeah. Guy stuff, apparently." I scowled in the direction of Archie's last class.

McKayla took in my expression, and she opened her mouth to ask a question.

The sudden growling of an engine in the parking lot cut her short, and everyone on the sidewalk spun to look. They stared in blank astonishment as a black motorcycle screeched to a stop on the edge of the concrete, leaving black skid marks where it had been, engine still snarling like an angry beast.

I stared as I took in the rider on the motorcycle.

Jules waved a hand at me urgently. "Come on!" she shouted over the engine. "Let's go!"

For a second I could only stare, frozen. Then I got it. I knew I had seconds to make a decision—I looked to McKayla.

"Hey, I got really sick and went home, okay?" I said in a rush. I realized I was grinning.

McKayla looked at Jules, then back at me. Her brow furrowed for a second. Then, to my amazement, a conspiratorial smile flickered across her face. "Sure. Sick, right."

"Thanks a million, McKayla, I owe you one!" I sprinted across the pavement, and threw my leg over the back of the seat. I fastened my arms securely around Jules's waist.

A second before we were gone, I glanced back, and saw Archie standing at the edge of the cafeteria, mouth open, his eyes quickly turning to a blazing fury.

I tried to look apologetic, though I'm not sure I managed it. Then we were off, racing across the blacktop so fast my stomach got lost somewhere behind us.

"Hold on," Jules shouted over the deafening roar.

I closed my eyes, the speed making me dizzy, though I reminded myself I'd gone faster than this before. My entire body was tense, every second afraid to see Archie running up behind us in the side mirror, or worse, have Charlie come barreling up in the cruiser to pull us over.

I could tell when we crossed the line. Jules slowed dramatically, and she threw back her head and laughed.

"Did you see that?" she crowed.

"You're awesome!" I shouted back, over the roar of the engine.

Jules grinned broadly. "I remembered what you said about the psychic kid-leech not being able to see what _I'm_ going to do—good thing you didn't think of it or he would have stopped you going to school."

I grinned back. I was glad I hadn't thought of this—I almost couldn't believe it had ended up this good.

"So," she called back at me. "What do you want to do today?"

Good question. I heard myself laugh—a laugh of the taste of freedom. "Anything you want."

* * *

A/N: Well, that's six down. So about, what, twenty more to go? We're making progress. :J

So, there are three chapters of this book I particularly struggled with, in terms of their needing to be written with some fairly radical changes in order to fit with the genderswap. This is one of them, as Royal's story (as we know from Life and Death, and I think also at least one SM interview) is pretty different from Rosalie's. However, in the end, I think the greater challenge was just trying to get down Royal's way of talking versus Rosalie's. (Since Rosalie is everything feminine, while Royal is everything masculine.)

This was the most minor of the three, the other two are still coming up. Wish me luck! :j

Thanks so much for reading, and for all your thoughts and comments. If you have a moment, let me know what you thought, and see you next time! C:

Posted 2/6/17


	8. Temper

A/N: Hey! :3

So much drawing the last couple weeks. I'd been doing so much writing the past few years, I'm glad to really get back into art again. (For me, drawing isn't quite like riding a bike, it's more like exercise. When you stop doing it for a while, it takes a little while to get back in a little better shape. Not that I know anything about exercise...)

Thanks so much for all your comments last chapter! Hope you enjoy, and see you at the end! C:

* * *

Chapter 7: Temper

We ended up on the beach again, wandering around, not really caring where we were going. We were both high on our successful escape, though I couldn't help but think that if Jules's ego got much bigger, she'd have to start turning sideways to get through doors.

"That was totally James Bond," she enthused, grinning so broadly I could see all of her teeth. "Admit it."

"Definitely Bond," I agreed. I added, "They're not going to be too happy, but—who cares. Life is short."

Jules glanced at me. She repeated, almost to herself, "Yeah. Short."

She was quiet for only a second before she was grinning again. "You know, you could just stay here. Then you wouldn't have to deal with the wrath of the vampires. I bet good ole' Chief Swan wouldn't mind."

She probably had a point there. Charlie had already made his preferences clear, and while he always seemed eager to dream up new rules where Edythe was concerned, he was more than willing to bend them all for Jules.

Of course, I figured Jules knew as well as I did that it would be a bad idea on a lot of levels, but just in case she had meant the offer seriously, I decided it was safer to change the subject.

"So," I said, bending to pick up a stone, and trying to skip it across the waves—it fell with a heavy _ploosh_ just a few meters from the shore. "What's the latest pack gossip?"

Jules shrugged. "Just the usual. Who's crushing on who. Who's jealous of who." She shuddered. "Seriously, when mind sharing is involved, teenage girl drama is magnified by about a thousand."

"Are most of them getting back to doing normal stuff then?" I asked. "Like...going out, dating, that kind of thing?"

Jules shook her head. "To be honest, not really. I mean, it's kind of hard to date a guy when you have to hide the fact you're turning into a giant wolf at night to hunt vampires. But, we still go to school and stuff—occasionally. So we still see our old friends, and people we knew before."

Jules grinned. "Most of the pack, at least the ones who like someone, have these kind of daydreams. You know, about some guy they like finding out about us, and being totally cool with it, even thinking it's awesome."

Jules shook her head ruefully, though still grinning. "Course, I know most of those guys, and the pansies would probably run away screaming."

Jules picked up a stone and casually threw it, where it sailed two hundred feet out and hit the water in a perfect skip five times before it disappeared smoothly beneath the surface.

"Guess I'm kind of lucky that way," she added, so low I barely caught it.

I didn't know what to say, and so I gazed out at the white waves, glittering in the mid-morning light.

Jules picked up another rock, tossing it up into the air and catching it with ease.

"You know, you're a cool guy, Beau," she said suddenly. "I mean, how many people could be so okay with this whole werewolf thing? Sure, we're all used to it now, but whenever I stop to think about it from the outside...it's really freaky."

I shrugged. "I was kind of freaked out at first," I admitted. "Although a lot of that was that I thought you were out picking off hikers in the woods."

Jules laughed. "Looking back, that was kind of funny. Not _really_ funny, but kind of. In a twisted way."

Her expression turned slightly pensive, and she turned again to gaze at me. "But you know, Beau...if we had been, you know, eating people...what would you have done?"

I hesitated.

I'd asked the same question myself at the time—I hadn't really come to a conclusion, except that I cared about Jules, that she was my friend, no matter what she did. But I still wasn't sure if that was right or wrong, if saying that would make her happy, or get her upset.

So I asked instead, "Well, what if it was the other way around? What if I was the monster?"

Jules gazed back at me for a moment, and I saw in her eyes a touch of alarm. Her expression darkened, and she opened her mouth as though to reply. However, instead her eyes dropped and after a moment of tense silence, she turned her back to me.

"Hey," she said, with forced cheer, "I know what we should do. Let's go back up to the house and get out our bikes. You've got to ride a motorcycle regularly to keep it in tune, and you haven't been on yours in ages."

I didn't pursue the subject. I'd only meant to use the question to deflect hers, but as I thought about it more, I realized that that may soon very well be the dilemma she would face. There was a newborn in Seattle picking people off the streets, making headlines. I wasn't unaware that, very soon, that could be me.

I shook off the thought—whatever I was, Edythe would keep me in check.

I frowned. "I just got out of jail for the last time. You'll get me thrown right back."

Jules turned back to me, a smile playing about her lips. "You know Charlie won't find out unless I tell him," she said. "And I swear to keep my mouth shut this time. I'll write it in blood if you want."

She tilted her head and raised an eyebrow. "Or is this an edict from your over-timing, self-appointed parole officer?"

I wanted to be annoyed—she always got that bit of a curl to her lip when she talked about Edythe, and her tone always dripped with derision. However, before I could look away, Jules's face split into a real smile—the smile of the Jules I knew, open and warm, as bright as the sun.

I couldn't stop the grin that spread across my face in response.

She winked at me. "I won't tell a soul, I promise."

"Except all the other members of your hive-mind wolf clan," I pointed out.

Jules winced. "Oh, yeah. I told you, that's the thing that sucks the most about this connected-mind thing. It's bad enough when you can't keep any secrets of your own, but not being able to keep anyone _else's_ secrets..." She grimaced. However, a moment later she was grinning again. "But, I'll do my absolute, positive best not to think about it."

I couldn't help it, and I laughed. "I guess that'll have to be good enough. I'd hate for my bike to get out of tune. But if I end up in the emergency room, what's our cover story going to be?"

Jules pursed her lips, considering. "You tripped in my garage?"

I grinned. "The fallback. I guess that works."

The rain had turned to a light mist as we rode the bikes around awhile on the back roads. However, they still picked up plenty of mud, and as the rain started up again, we decided to head on back to the house, especially as Jules said she was starving anyway. Bonnie greeted me casually as we clumped on in, showing no surprise at my abrupt reappearance. We ate a quick lunch—a couple of sandwiches Jules threw together—before we headed out to the garage to start in on the monumental task of getting our bikes cleaned off.

"Home sweet home," Jules said as she pushed her bike on in. "Just like you remembered it?"

It took me a second to respond. It had been so many months since I'd been here, yet as I looked around, everything was so familiar it felt as though I had never been away. Everything was the same, from the tools Jules had left spread out over the floor, to the old crumpled grocery bag she always kept full of sodas.

Jules grabbed a couple of cans from the bag and handed one to me. As I cracked the lid, I found myself thinking about the day a while back, when we'd sat in the garage just like we were now. So much had happened back then, and since—in a way, things had been less complicated, at least where Jules and I were concerned. But it was nice to realize that I could come back, that this place I'd considered my second home for so long still existed, and would still welcome me.

I lifted my soda in a toast, grinning a little. "To recklessness?" I suggested.

Jules laughed. "And a bit of responsibility now and then, too, I guess." She touched her can to mine, then tilted her head back for a large swig.

I drank some of mine, too. I couldn't help but smile a little to myself. As much as I appreciated Archie's gesture, it was nice to be around someone who legitimately liked soda, and didn't have to choke it down just to be sociable.

Jules wiped her mouth. "Glad you came," she said. "I miss you when you're gone. Really. _So_ boring, you wouldn't believe it."

I shook my head. "How can you be bored when you're turning into a wolf every night and running around hunting vampires?"

She shrugged. "If we were actually catching any, maybe it wouldn't be."

She stared out at the forest for a long moment. Her eyes were distant, and she repeated in a murmur, "So boring."

We were quiet then. We both gazed out into the forest beyond the shelter, at the saturated leaves and trunks. I noticed the rain made the vegetation look greener than usual. However, I also noticed the mist—it rose off the ground and curled like wisps of smoke, creeping around the edges of the trees, obscuring their roots.

"Beau," Jules said suddenly, her voice very quiet. "Can I ask you something?"

Her tone was different from before, more serious, and a little hesitant.

"Yeah?" I said uncertainly. "What is it?"

Jules's eyes were on the can of soda in her hand. "There's just...something I've been wondering about. Something you said before. Or hinted at."

She drew a breath. "You know, back when I was reminding her of the terms of the treaty—and how they swore never to kill or bite a human."

She finally turned, looking me in the eye. "Were you... _Are_ you serious?"

I looked back her, and I didn't break her gaze. "Yes," I said at last, my voice quiet, but certain.

Jules stared back at me. Then at last she closed her eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. She nodded once. "I think I knew that."

Her eyes opened and she looked at me again. Her dark eyes were hard. "But you know what this will mean, don't you? If they break the treaty—you know what will happen."

I felt a chill on my skin that had nothing to do with the rain outside. "We'll leave," I said, so low it was barely above a whisper.

Jules's mouth curled into a sneer. "It's not like the treaty had a geographic limit. Our ancestors made the treaty with them because they claimed to be different. Once any one of them break it, then they're nothing but bloodsuckers like all the rest to us. Monsters to be hunted."

I stared back at her, and I heard myself say quietly, "Please, Jules."

"Please what?" she said irritably, looking away.

I shook my head. "Try to see...There's nothing bad about it. They aren't killing humans, they aren't turning anyone against their will. This should be an exception. It's my choice. Couldn't you try to convince Sam of that before you start a war? If you fight them over this, you'll be fighting me, too."

Jules's eyes were cold. "I won't be fighting you," she said flatly. "Because Beau Swan won't exist. Because he'll be dead—murdered."

I stared back at her. "Please, Jules," I said again, very quietly. I knew she could understand, if she just tried. I knew it would be hard for her, I knew she wouldn't like it—but I also knew she could understand that, even if what Edythe and I did violated the terms of the treaty, it wouldn't violate the spirit of it. It was my choice. I knew she could understand that—I wanted her to understand.

Jules refused to look at me. She glared down at the can in her hand, and didn't respond.

I felt like something cold and heavy was slowly pushing its way through me, crushing my insides. However, I knew I didn't have the right to ask for anything more.

Leaving my soda can on the ground, I slowly got to my feet. "I guess...I guess I better go then."

Jules blinked and looked up, startled, and her fierce expression melted into one of surprise.

"Wait—why? You don't have to go now. Stay. I'm sorry, we don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. We still have time, don't we? That's still years away. We can be friends until then."

I shook my head, and I felt suddenly tired. "Jules, the deadline is after graduation."

Dead silence. There was not a sound in the garage, and I could only hear the rain, still pounding against the metal roof outside. I stared down at Jules, where she still sat on the floor, perfectly still, still as a statue—as a vampire. At last, I opened my mouth to say something.

There was a sound like a gunshot and, so fast I didn't see it happen, Jules was abruptly on her feet. I saw in her clenched fist the mangled remains of her soda can, dripping its contents onto the floor, and she was shaking all over. She looked at me with blazing eyes flat black, and her normally dark russet skin was almost white with fury.

As I watched, too shocked to react, I saw as she began to vibrate all over, and her shape blurred before my eyes. I knew what was about to happen—

However, she gritted her teeth hard, bowing her head and closing her eyes. The vibrating slowed, then ceased, until only her clenched fists were trembling slightly. When her eyes opened again, they were cold as ice.

"So," she said in a flat monotone. "That's how it is."

It took me a second to find my voice again. "I'm sorry," I said quietly. "I really didn't mean to spring it on you like that. I just...thought you deserved to know."

Jules didn't smile, not even the bitter, mocking smile.

Her face held no trace of emotion, except for her eyes, which burned with cold fury. "In just a few weeks, you'll be a monster," she said in a low voice.

I flinched at the words, but I held my ground. "I love Edythe," I said quietly. "And I don't want to be a helpless liability to her forever. What else can you expect me to do?"

Jules looked at me with revulsion, with black hatred so strong her entire face seemed to darken like a storm cloud.

"Love," she spat. "You call that _love_? Turning yourself into a monster for her? Becoming something that would as soon eat Charlie and my mom as look at them? That's sick—and what's sicker still is that you can't see how sick it is."

Her black eyes blazed, mouth twisted. She whispered, almost too low for me to catch, "I'd rather see you dead than one of them."

I stared back at her for a long second. Then, without really thinking about what I was doing, I put my hands on the handles of my motorcycle and pushed out from the small, warm little garage into the icy rain.

* * *

The ride to the Cullens' house on my bike was cold and wet. My clothes were soaked to the skin before I was even halfway, and the buffeting wind drove drops right into my face, making it feel as though I were being pelted with tiny shards of ice.

When I finally made it, I walked the bike into the Cullen's cavernous garage, and I wasn't at all surprised to see Archie there, waiting for me. He was sitting casually on the hood of the Porsche, and he stroked it with a regretful sigh.

"I didn't even get a chance to drive it."

"Sorry," I muttered, though I was shivering so much the word came out slightly garbled. My hair was pasted to my head, and I probably looked like a drowned rat.

"Looks like you could use a hot shower," Archie noted, springing lightly to his feet.

I didn't answer, only nodded.

Archie took in my expression. "You okay, man? Something happen?"

I shrugged.

"We can talk about it, if you want."

I shook my head.

Archie shrugged, though his eyes burned with curiosity. However, all he said was, "Well, I'm glad you made it back alive."

I nodded, then turned and headed for the house.

Archie didn't bring up his proposed car trip to Olympia, and though I would have liked to go home, I didn't ask. Instead I took my shower, staying in longer than I needed to, letting the hot water pound against my forehead and trying to drown out my thoughts. Then I went straight to Edythe's room for an early night.

As I lay there in the darkness, staring out at the faint silver silhouette of the trees beyond, the words Jules had spoken to me in the garage repeated themselves in my mind.

 _I'd rather see you dead than one of them._

The words cut deep—deeper than I could have ever expected. Very soon, the wolf pack may declare war on the Cullens, and it would be my doing. And Jules would be trying to kill me. She'd hate me, see me as nothing but a monster.

And what if I _was_ a monster? A real monster? What if she was right, and I would be a menace to ordinary people, hikers out in the woods, even Bonnie or my own dad?

Would that mean she was right to rather see me dead?

I fell into an uneasy sleep, dreaming about blood and monsters with red eyes.

When I woke again, it was still dark out, and I doubted it was near morning yet. I sat up groggily, rubbing my neck, and turned to get up. However, something soft fell partially to the floor, and I noticed someone had thrown another duvet over me—the extra thick kind, with gold trim.

I blinked and as I peered through the semi-darkness, I noticed a figure sitting perched on the far arm of the couch. She was perfectly still.

I tensed, waiting for the onslaught. I was in deep trouble and I knew it.

However, when Edythe turned to look at me, her eyes glimmered with gold in the faint light and she was smiling.

"Sleep well?" she asked softly.

I stared at her and wondered if—impossibly—she somehow didn't yet know what I had done.

In one fluid movement, Edythe was suddenly sitting beside me on the couch. Keeping the duvet between me and her icy skin, she wrapped one arm around my waist, laying her head against my shoulder and sighing contently.

I pushed the duvet back and wrapped my arm around her shoulders, and the feel of her hard, icy skin under my hand felt reassuring. I leaned down so I could kiss her on the cheek. However, Edythe turned her head and instead I felt her lips against mine, hard as marble, but gentle.

Our foreheads rested together as she pulled back, and her golden eyes slid open to gaze into mine. She smiled a little.

"And here," she said softly, "I had braced myself for the court martial. I don't think this kind of punishment will reinforce any future discipline."

I tensed. My eyes dropped from hers and I stared hard at the black leather of the sliver of couch between us.

"Um, about that, Edythe. There's something I should probably tell you." As much as I didn't want to see Archie lose his Porsche, I couldn't stand the thought of keeping secrets.

Edythe laughed softly, then pressed her lips to my neck, and then my jaw. She murmured, "You mean that you ditched school, got on the back of a motorcycle, ran off to La Push for hours, then came back _again_ on a motorcycle in muddy, hazardous conditions?" I felt her lips move in a smile. "I know."

"Oh." I was silent for a long moment, trying to understand this strange new turn reality had taken. After a few seconds, I gave up.

"I don't get it. Aren't you ticked?"

Edythe had picked up my hand and held it between hers, tenderly running the tips of her fingers over my knuckles.

"I did some serious thinking while I was away," she said slowly. "I decided...you're right. It's not right for me to take away your freedom, no matter what the reason. And I believe I should trust your judgment more. So if you say it's safe...that's enough for me. I'm afraid you'll hurt yourself more trying to get around us, and that's not worth it."

She looked up at me earnestly, and again she slipped an arm around my back. "And most importantly...I don't want this putting a wall between us."

I sighed, pulling myself a little closer, and resting my head against the top of hers.

"So," she said after a moment. "Do you have plans to go back soon?" She added, "I don't think I'll go hunting that far again—it's not worth it to be separated that long. But you don't have to wait for me to be gone. If it's important to you to visit a friend, I will raise no more objections."

I was silent, my entire body suddenly tense as I was assaulted once again with Jules's parting words.

"Beau?" Edythe said, concerned. She raised her eyes to gaze into mine searchingly.

"Thanks, Edythe," I whispered. "But...I don't think I'll be going back there again."

"Why not?" she asked, delicate brow furrowing over her golden eyes with worry. After a moment, she added hurriedly, "Ah—but if you don't want to talk about it—"

I sighed and shook my head. "I don't think she wants to see me again. While I was there...when we were talking...Well, I just don't think she realized it was going to be so soon. That I was...going to become..."

Understanding came into Edythe's eyes. "Ah," she murmured.

"She said she'd rather see me dead." I tried to make my tone even, matter-of-fact, but my voice caught on the last word.

Edythe's expression froze. Something sparked in her eyes, but she looked away too quickly for me to get a good look. At last, I felt her tense form relax and she tightened her grip on my hand.

"Oh, Beau," she whispered. And when she looked up at me again, her eyes were pained.

I smiled a little ruefully. "I thought you might be kind of happy."

Edythe gazed up at me. "I could never be happy about anything that hurt you."

I held her close in the darkness, and though I felt cold, I was comforted. However, after a long minute, I couldn't stop myself from asking, "Is she right, do you think?"

Edythe's eyebrows knitted with confusion. "Right?"

"I mean," I whispered. "What if I _do_ become a monster? What if I want to hurt people? Is she right—would it be better if I died instead?"

"No," Edythe said sharply, fiercely. I felt her arm around me tense, holding me more tightly than before. "Never."

She hesitated. "The first few years will probably be...rough. But we'll be there. We'll keep you from hurting anyone. And then eventually you'll settle into yourself again."

She gazed up at me, and the earnestness and intensity in her face was almost painful to look at. "I love you, Beau," she said softly. "And nothing will ever change that."

I stayed close to her, holding her to me, and I marveled that such an ordinary guy as I was could have been so lucky. That there could be someone I loved so much who felt the same way.

At last Edythe said, "But you know, Beau, I wouldn't worry about it. I could literally kill her for saying something like that to you—but I'm sure she'll take it back before the time comes. She'll come crawling back to you. She has too weak a will to do anything else."

Edythe added, with a touch of bitterness, "Not that I can fault her for that. If I'd had a weaker will, perhaps I wouldn't have hurt you so badly or for so long as I did last winter."

"That's behind us now," I said quickly, squeezing her shoulder. After a moment, I said quietly, "Maybe it would be better if she did keep away from me. If we can't be friends after...maybe it would be better to break now."

In a way, I wasn't in any hurry to talk to her again—her words still felt like knives in my gut. However, the thought of never seeing her again, not until we were mortal enemies...

"It's up to you," Edythe murmured, the tips of her fingers absently tracing circles on my back. "However you want it to be, Beau. You don't have to see her, but you're free to change your mind at any time. I'm your partner, not your jailer—not anymore."

I smiled down at her, my arm around her shoulders, and I was just glad we were together, and we weren't fighting about anything. However, I suddenly frowned as a random thought came back to me.

"Hey," I said. "I was talking to Royal last night..."

"Oh yes. He was thinking about that when I came in. A lot to think about, isn't it?"

"Well," I began. "He mentioned something about your time with the Denali clan. And these awesome vampire guys. And one of them was hitting on you."

Edythe laughed.

* * *

A/N: Seems like there's always at least one major challenge to be worked through each chapter, and this is one I was worried about. (I always think more emotional scenes are harder to pull off, and of course, with the Twilight series, that's just about every other scene. xD) But, always fun anyway. c:

Thanks so much for reading! I'm always so happy to hear if any of you are enjoying reading this as much as I've had fun writing it, and I appreciate all your comments and just knowing you're here. If you have a moment, let me know what you thought! C: See you next time~

Posted 2/28/17


	9. Target

A/N: Back again! C: It's been an interesting few weeks, I had quite a few things I planned to get done, but ended up getting sidetracked multiple times...But, I guess that's not unusual. Just so something gets done, I guess it doesn't matter too much. (Or that's what I tell myself anyway. xD)

Thank you all so much for your kind thoughts! (I appreciate it more than I can say.) Here's another chapter, and, as always, I'll be working on the next one. See you at the end! :J

* * *

Chapter 8: Target

Archie dropped me off at my house in the morning. Edythe would show up later, officially back from her hiking trip. All these pretenses were starting to wear on me.

Charlie came to the door to meet me, waving to Archie as Archie drove off.

"Have a good time?" he asked.

I shrugged. "Good enough, I guess."

I left my duffel bag at the foot of the stairs, then headed for the kitchen to find something eat.

"You've got a message," Charlie called after me as he headed for the living room.

I found the phone message pad propped up conspicuously again a saucepan.

 _Julie called,_ Charlie had written. _She said she feels really bad about what she said and she wants you to call her. She sounded upset._

I sighed. Apparently Edythe had been right, though I hadn't expected her to be right this soon. However, I wasn't really in the mood to talk to her just now.

I realized I wasn't hungry anymore and I turned for the stairs.

"Aren't you going to call her?" Charlie asked, leaning around the living room wall as I grabbed up my duffel again.

"Maybe later. We'll just get into a fight again if I talk to her now."

"Sometimes it's better to take care of these things right away," he suggested.

Charlie wasn't normally so interfering, but as I'd already seen, he infinitely preferred Jules to Edythe, and didn't seem afraid to take sides.

Annoyed, I grumbled something too low for him to catch, then headed on upstairs.

I'd neglected a few of my usual household chores, and I knew the laundry was probably getting downright nasty. So after I put my things away and tossed my old clothes from the overnight stay in the hamper, I decided to do the sheets while I was at it. I went to my dad's room first and pulled them off the bed, dumping them in a pile at the top of the stairs before I turned into my room to get mine.

However, as I headed straight for the bed, I paused, frowning. My eyes scanned the room, and it took me a second to realize why I had such a weird feeling.

I normally kept my room pretty clean, especially for a teenage guy—the fact my girlfriend was coming over every night gave me some additional incentive—but I was pretty sure I'd left some things laying around when I'd last been here. A gray sweatshirt over the bedpost, a T-shirt crumpled up over the arm of the rocking chair. My eyes went to the bed, and I noticed my pillow was missing. I turned around, my gaze going to the hamper in the corner. Now that I thought about it, I was pretty sure it had been stuffed high to overflowing when I'd left it, but even with the clothes from yesterday I'd just added, it was half empty.

"Huh," I muttered. Maybe when Archie had dropped by to gather my stuff, he'd done a bit of cleaning while he was here, and maybe done a load of laundry. That would be out of character, but then, maybe he'd been hoping to get on my good side so I'd forgive him for keeping me in jail. That seemed a more likely explanation than Charlie had done it.

Shrugging to myself, I tore my sheets from my bed and, snatching up Charlie's on the way, headed for the laundry closet. I checked the washer, expecting to find a load in there, but it was empty. I checked the drier too, but there was nothing there either.

Weird. I wondered if I was going crazy. But with everything in my life, maybe it was a wonder it hadn't happened sooner.

I dumped the sheets in the wash, and got the cycle started.

Still preoccupied, I turned to head back to my room to search out my missing stuff, but then the doorbell rang. That would be Edythe.

"Door," Charlie called as I flew by the living room, weird shirt-pillow mystery already forgotten.

I pulled open the door. "Hey, Edythe," I said brightly. "Come—"

I broke off as I took in the expression on her face. Her eyes were narrowed to slits, nostrils flared, lips pulled back from her teeth in a silent snarl.

Before I could say anything, Edythe looked up at me and she reached out and touched my hand.

"Give me two seconds," she breathed. "Don't move." Then, right in front of my eyes, she disappeared.

I felt the cool breath of wind on my side as she whipped past me, back into the house, moving so fast Charlie wouldn't have had a hope to see her even if his eyes hadn't been safely glued to the TV.

Before I could even begin to think about what could be going on, Edythe was back. She gripped my hand tightly, pulling me into the house, heading swiftly for the kitchen. I glanced toward my dad, but he seemed to be studiously ignoring us.

Edythe's eyes darted around the room, turning her head to look all around us as we went, as though expecting some enemy to suddenly jump out from the walls. She pulled me to the very back of the kitchen and said in my ear, so low I could barely make it out over the thumping of the washing machine, "Someone's been in here."

I stared back at her blankly. "Someone?" I muttered, trying to make my voice as low as Edythe's. "What do you mean?"

Edythe's face was paler than usual in the dull kitchen light, almost white, and I could feel the tension in her hand as she gripped mine.

"One of our kind," she whispered.

I stared back at her, and I felt the blood drain from my face. I felt my mouth form the name. "Victor."

However, Edythe shook her head. "No. Not him. It wasn't a scent I recognized."

"One of the Volturi, then," I whispered.

She nodded, though she didn't look entirely certain. "I think it must be." She glanced back toward the living room. "Judging from the freshness of the scent, this was early in the morning, when Charlie would have still been asleep. Whoever it was left him untouched—meaning it was someone with self-control, with some definite purpose in mind. I think the Volturi would have to be the most likely candidates."

I pressed a fist to my mouth, feeling suddenly, violently sick. My dad—my dad, sleeping here in this house, and a vampire looking for me had been a room away. I could have come home this morning to find him—

I felt Edythe's arm around me. I realized I was shaking. And even now, we were still far from safe.

"Let's go," Edythe said in my ear. "Now."

My gaze flickered to her, my eyes wide, my mouth open in horror. "Charlie—" I managed in a strangled whispered. "We can't just—"

Edythe hesitated, then in a moment her phone was in her hand.

"Eleanor," she said in a low voice. She spoke so low and so rapidly I couldn't make out anything else she said. Then she shut the phone with a snap and looked up at me.

"Eleanor and Jessamine are on their way," she said in an undertone. "They'll sweep the woods. Charlie will be safe."

Without waiting for my response, she gripped me by the wrist and towed me in the direction of the door.

"You're awfully quiet in there," Charlie called from the living room, sounding surly. "What's all the whispering about?"

"Charlie," Edythe said, her voice flawlessly polite as always, without a hint of tension, "I'm afraid I'm going to have to take Beau out for a bit. Don't worry, he'll be back at a reasonable time."

Charlie turned his head to eye us suspiciously. "Where—" he began, but stopped as he caught a glimpse of the panicked look in my eyes. Before he could say any more, Edythe had us through the hall and out the door.

Fear seemed to have paralyzed my vocal cords, and we'd been driving in Edythe's car for a full minute before I could speak.

"Where are we going?" I realized I was still talking in a low voice, though there was no one to hear us.

"Archie," she answered.

"You think he might have seen something?"

Edythe stared straight ahead as the car sped way too fast along the road. Her eyes were hard. "I don't know."

The Cullens, all but Jessamine and Eleanor, were already there when we arrived, waiting for us. No one moved as we entered, all silent and still as statues.

To my shock, Edythe abruptly spun on Archie.

"What happened?" she snarled.

Archie stood his ground, arms folded across his chest. "I have no idea," he said coolly. "I didn't see anything."

" _How?_ " Edythe hissed. Her back was bent, her lips curled back from her teeth—she looked like an enraged tiger. "How did you miss that?"

"It's not an exact science, Edythe," Carine said quietly, trying to intervene.

Edythe ignored her. "That vampire was in his _room_ ," she spat. "They could have still been in there— _waiting_ for him."

"I would have seen that."

Edythe's eyes were dark with fury. "And you can be sure of that, can you?" she whispered, voice low and accusing.

Archie stared back at Edythe, and when he answered his voice was flat. "You've already got me watching Sulpicia's decisions, watching for Victor's return, watching Beau every minute of the day—You want me to add something else? Charlie, maybe? Beau's room, the house, or maybe just the whole freaking street while I'm at it? Edythe, if I'm watching for too much at once, things are going to start slipping through the cracks."

"Well, clearly they already are," Edythe answered viciously.

"If he was in danger, I would have seen it," Archie insisted. "And if this was Sulpicia's doing, I would have seen that, too."

"If it wasn't Sulpicia, then who was it?" she demanded. "Who would have left Charlie alive?"

Archie hesitated. "I don't know."

Edythe gave a kind of contemptuous half laugh. Her eyes were blazing. Almost wild.

I put a hand on her shoulder. "Edythe," I said quietly.

Edythe turned, glaring with such ferocity I had to fight to keep from taking an automatic step back. Her face was livid, and her clenched fists shook slightly at her sides.

Then, slowly, she relaxed. The fire faded from her eyes and she took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled. Her gaze dropped.

"I'm...I'm sorry," she said. She hesitantly raised her eyes back to Archie. "Forgive me. I shouldn't be taking this out on you. After everything you've done—that was disingenuous."

Archie managed to flash a tight smile. "You're forgiven. I've always been a believer in giving more slack to crazy people."

Edythe almost smiled, though not quite. She nodded, taking a deep breath. "Okay then. Then...let's try to look at it logically."

As Edythe relaxed, so did everyone else. Archie, though his expression was back to serious now, leaned casually against the back of the couch, while Earnest took a seat nearby, and a moment later Carine went to stand near the couch just beside him. Only Royal didn't move, standing with his back to us, gazing out the glass wall. It occurred to me that it seemed strange that Jessamine would be the one to go out scouting for the intruder while Royal stayed behind. He was bigger, surely stronger—but it seemed like Edythe had specifically requested Jessamine for some reason.

Edythe pulled me over to the couch and made sure I was sitting down. She held one of my hands gently between hers.

"You're certain this wasn't Victor," Carine said quietly.

Edythe nodded. "I didn't know the scent. It had to be someone else. I'd say it had to be a member of the Volturi, except—" She glanced at Archie.

"I would have seen that," Archie said. "Sulpicia hasn't ordered anyone to do anything, at least where Beau's concerned. There's no reason the Volturi would be here to check up on Beau except to find out if he's still human, and Sulpicia gave you until at least after graduation. It wouldn't make sense for her to be sending probes out now."

Edythe considered. "Maybe someone other than Sulpicia gave the order. Jonathan, for instance—he was more than a little annoyed to find his power didn't work on Beau. Maybe he preferred to see him gone rather than a vampire who he thinks might end up working for Sulpicia alongside him."

Archie nodded. "I'd believe that, except whoever this was had no intention to hurt Beau, or Charlie—not even to wait for him. I'd have seen it otherwise."

"Archie's right," Earnest put in. "Whoever this intruder was, they clearly meant no harm."

"No harm _for now_ ," Edythe said scathingly.

I noticed Royal had unfrozen, and had turned toward the door. Edythe sighed, looking discouraged.

A moment later Eleanor emerged through the kitchen door, Jessamine not far behind her.

"Long gone," Eleanor announced. She was frowning with obvious disappointment. "Hours ago. The trail went East, then South, then disappeared on a side road. Apparently our little visitor had a car waiting."

"Unfortunate," Edythe murmured. "If only they had gone west...those dogs could have finally made themselves useful."

Jessamine looked to Carine. "I didn't recognize the scent, and neither did Eleanor. But perhaps you..." She held out something crumpled and green, and I realized it was a broken fern frond.

Carine took the plant and held it to her face for a moment, brow slightly creased. Then she sighed and let it drop.

"No," she said quietly. "I don't know this scent either. It's certainly no one I've ever met."

"Perhaps this is not an enemy," Earnest suggested. "Perhaps he or she was a stranger passing through, and was simply curious of the fact that all our scents surround that room. Our coven is very large—our visitor may have been afraid to approach us directly."

I swallowed. Another vampire—maybe not even connected to either Victor or the Volturi. It was strange to think that there could be so many vampires in the world. I wondered just how many human deaths, reported as crimes and accidents, were actually the result of vampire activity. More than I could have guessed, I imagined. And when I became one myself, I would increase the vampire population even further.

The Cullens considered the theory. However, both Edythe and Archie looked skeptical.

"I think whoever did this had to know exactly what they were doing," Archie said, shaking his head. "The timing was absolutely perfect. They were careful not to go anywhere near Beau, almost like they knew what I was watching for."

"A distant, mind-reading power?" Carine murmured, almost to herself. "Or a power that allows him or her to hide from the sight of powers such as Archie's?"

"Carine's right," Edythe said. "We can't forget that this visitor could have abilities of their own. And we also have no idea what this intruder's future intentions might be."

She looked around at all of them. "Until we know...nothing is safe. Someone will have to stay with Beau at all times."

"I have a suggestion," I put in.

Everyone turned to look at me.

I took a breath. "Right now I'm a liability. Not only does someone have to protect me, but apparently I'm also drawing them to Charlie. So...maybe we shouldn't wait until graduation. Maybe we should do it now."

There was no question what I was talking about.

"No," Edythe said quickly. She stroked my hand reassuringly, and went on, "It will be more safe now, Beau. We will be more vigilant. You and Charlie will be absolutely safe."

"It would hurt Charlie very much for you to disappear suddenly now," Carine said quietly.

"I know," I said. "But—if something were to happen to him, and because of me—"

"Nothing will happen to him," Edythe said, and she reached up to gently stroke my hair.

I opened my mouth to argue further. However, to my surprise, it was Jessamine who spoke next.

She looked right at me, with her cool, expressionless eyes, and said evenly, "For you to become a newborn now, much of our energy would necessarily go to keeping you under control. You would be a distraction, a far greater liability, when we need all our focus to be on discovering who this intruder is, and whether they pose a threat. It would not be wise to change you now."

I wanted to keep going. But I didn't have any answer to that argument, so, as the conversation returned to discussing the possibilities and what action to take next, I let Edythe continue to stroke my hand, and I didn't say any more.

* * *

It was a quiet ride home. I still felt like keeping me human was the wrong decision, but what Jessamine had said also kept going through my head. _Keeping you under control._ When I changed, I would be an out of control monster, and I couldn't stop the chill that went down my spine at the thought.

I guess Edythe misinterpreted my silence as anxiety over the intruder, because she said, "You and Charlie will be safe. You won't be alone for a second. When I leave this evening, there will be someone out there all the time until I get back tonight."

I grimaced. "They're all going to hate this, aren't they? Bodyguard duty. They'll go crazy with boredom."

"You're one of the family," Edythe said, reaching over to put her hand over mine. "They would do anything to keep you safe."

When we got back, Charlie gave us an odd look as we came in. "Where did you two go?" he asked, suspicious.

"Do you want an itinerary next time?" I asked sourly. Maybe it wasn't fair for me to take out my bad mood on Charlie, but I was doing it anyway.

As Edythe removed her coat and hung it on the stand, she said, "I took him down to the clinic to get a physical. Carine gave me an article on preventive health care recently, and it made me realize how important it is to try to catch things early. I was afraid if we didn't get it done today, he would try to put it off indefinitely."

"Huh," Charlie grunted. He admitted unwillingly, "That was a good idea." He eyed me over his shoulder, evidently reinterpreting the look of horror he had seen on my face as we left.

"Yeah," I said. I added with a touch of vindictiveness, "Maybe you should get a physical next, Dad."

Charlie quickly turned back to the TV. "No point at my age. If I have to go prematurely, no one will miss me. You, on the other hand, have a responsibility to take care of yourself."

"Nice, Dad."

As I headed to the kitchen to start on dinner, he called after me, "Oh, by the way, Julie called again. She wants you to call her. She sounded pretty low."

"Maybe later."

Charlie grumbled something incoherent.

While I went to work on dinner, Edythe excused herself briefly, heading up in the direction of the bathroom, though I knew she'd probably slip out the window somewhere to do some surveillance.

In the meantime, as I stuck some leftovers in the oven to heat, I found my thoughts wandering back to Jules. After the close call today, it seemed to shift things into greater perspective. Jules was my friend now, even if she would hate my guts when I became a vampire. If I cared at all, I couldn't just leave her feeling guilty, even if what she had said was how she really felt. If something happened and I died tomorrow, I didn't want to do that to her.

I decided to wait until morning, when Charlie was gone on his usual Sunday fishing trip. It would be hard to have a real conversation while keeping from letting slip something that might leave him a bit freaked out—something about werewolves or vampires, for instance. A few more hours of guilt wouldn't kill her, and I figured I should be safe for one more night.

I sighed to myself. It was times like these that I envied Jules's relationship with Bonnie. Keeping so many secrets got wearing.

When Edythe finally left for the evening, I had to wonder who it was out there, sitting in the downpour. I felt bad for them, but I was also glad to have someone there. It made me feel better, knowing Charlie and I weren't on our own.

I laid on my bed, gazing out the window, listening to the sound of the rain pounding against the roof as I waited for Edythe to return. It wasn't until she did and came to sit beside me on the bed, stroking my forehead, that I finally drifted off to sleep.

* * *

As expected, Charlie left to go fishing in the morning before I was even up, and I decided it was time to make the phone call.

"I'm going to call Jules," I said casually over breakfast, as Edythe sat in a chair nearby and watched me eat. I watched her carefully out of the corner of my eye, looking for signs of tension, but Edythe only smiled.

"I think you'll feel better when you have. You're not very good at hurting people for their own good."

I raised an eyebrow. "Is that a compliment or an insult?"

Edythe ran a finger gently along my arm, tracing a line from the inside of my elbow to the tip of my fingers and back. "A compliment, definitely."

After I finished eating, I dumped my dishes in the sink and went straight for the phone. I didn't look at the clock until after I'd dialed, and it occurred to me this might be a bit early for calls. I hoped I didn't end up waking them.

However, someone picked up on the second ring.

"Hello?" said a dull voice.

"Jules?"

"Beau!" she gasped. She was suddenly talking so fast I almost had trouble keeping up. "I'm sorry—really sorry, that was the stupidest thing to say, I didn't mean it. I was angry, but—I shouldn't have said something like that, ever. It's not true. I don't know what I was thinking, but I swear, I'll do whatever it takes to make it up to you. Tell me what you want me to do, and I'll do it. I'm so sorry, I'm such a—"

I had a feeling she would keep going like this for a while if I didn't stop her, and I cut in, "It's okay. I get it, Jules, honestly. Let's just forget it ever happened. I have a good selective memory."

"Thanks," she breathed fervently. "I'm sorry, I was such a jerk."

I chuckled a little. "Well, I'm used to that by now, so don't worry about it."

Jules laughed, suddenly energized with relief. "You know, you should come down," she said suddenly. "Let me make it up to you. I'll come pick you up right now. We can do anything you want—how about cliff diving?"

I snorted. "Now, there's a good idea."

"We won't go in the middle of a storm," she promised. "And I'll be there the whole time to jump in and save you if you almost drown."

I glanced at Edythe. Her face was calm, but I didn't have to ask to know now wasn't exactly the most appropriate time.

"Actually, Jules," I began. "There's kind of something else going on right now."

Jules immediately picked up on the tension in my voice and she said, urgently, "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Um," I began. It had suddenly occurred to me belatedly that maybe it wasn't such a good idea to tell her all the details.

I looked at Edythe again for guidance. To my surprise, she wordlessly held her hand out for the phone. I searched her face, looking for some sign of disgust-with-werewolves in her expression, but she seemed perfectly calm.

"Beau?" Jules said, sounding alarmed.

"Uh, yeah, I'm here," I said, snapping back earth. "Just—Edythe wants to talk to you. Is it okay if I put her on?"

Silence on the other end for a long minute. At last Jules said cautiously, "...Okay. This should be interesting."

I handed the phone over slowly, not taking my eyes from Edythe and praying she wouldn't say anything to set Jules off.

"Hello, Julie," said Edythe, and the politeness in her voice didn't sound forced.

I couldn't hear how Jules responded. I hoped nothing too insulting.

"Someone was here yesterday morning," Edythe explained. "Not a scent that any of us know. Has your pack come across anything recently?"

Jules answered something and Edythe nodded, unsurprised. Jules said something else and Edythe paused.

"Yes, Beau and I have talked about that since, and I am perfectly okay with that, but you can understand if, while we still have an unquantifiable danger on our hands, I mean to keep him close. I'd like to be able to keep watch myself as much as possible..."

Jules seemed to make some suggestion, and her voice rose with excited intensity, though she didn't sound angry.

"You might be right—" Edythe began, but Jules kept talking and Edythe fell silent.

At last she said, "Yes...I think I agree with you. We would be quite willing to renegotiate, so long as Samantha is amenable." After a pause, she added, "Thank you."

Jules said something else, and surprise flitted across Edythe's face. I wished I could make it out.

"Yes," she said slowly. "I was going to go, and let him stay with the others briefly."

I heard Jules's voice rise in pitch slightly, persuasively.

"I'll consider it," Edythes said at last. "Perhaps."

I heard the murmur of Jules's voice as she added something else.

"Would you?" Edythe asked. "Yes, that's a good idea. I would appreciate that, as soon as possible. And I'd like the chance to follow the trail myself...All right, ten minutes then."

A pause, then she said, "All right." She offered the phone back to me and I took it, frowning. I put the receiver to my ear.

"That sounded like a surprisingly civil conversation," I noted, my eyes still on Edythe. "Even if I heard only half of it."

"I think we just made a truce," said Jules, and she sounded in an oddly good mood considering who she had just spoken to. "Do something for me, would you, Beau? Try to convince your little bloodsucker the safest place for you would be here on the reservation. Especially those times when she's not around."

I hesitated, looking to Edythe.

"It's a good idea," Jules continued. "Then we could get Charlie down here, too. Two birds with one stone."

I realized that actually did sound like a good idea. "Okay," I said. "Get Bonnie on it, and I'll do what I can."

"Don't worry," Jules said. "We're going to rearrange some boundaries so we'll catch anyone who gets too near Forks. I'm not sure if Sam will go for it, but at least I'll make sure to keep an eye on things until she comes around."

"Keep an eye on things?" I repeated, frowning.

I could almost see Jules grin. "Don't freak out if you see a giant wolf lurking out in the woods behind your house."

I sighed. I didn't like the idea of Jules being out on her own, away from the pack, but I also doubted there would be anything I could say to deter her.

"I also told her to let you visit once in a while. I'm telling you, it's nothing to do with your safety—you'd be perfectly safe here and she knows it. It's just plain old ordinary prejudice, so don't let her push you around."

I sighed. "She's being nice to you, you know. You could try being nice, too."

Jules laughed. "This _is_ nice for me." She added, "Okay, I'm going. I'll see you in a few."

I blinked, startled. "You're coming here? _Now_?"

"Sure. I'm going to get the scent so we'll know your visitor if he comes back for a round two."

"Okay..." I said uncertainly. "Just—"

"Yeah?" she asked.

"Be careful, Jules."

She laughed, and hung up.

* * *

A/N: And, there's another one. Bit by bit, we're getting somewhere. :J

Thanks so much for reading! If you have a moment, let me know what you thought, and see you next time! :J

Posted 3/21/17


	10. Scent

A/N: Hey! Seems like the last few weeks have been one of those weird times for me where I'm not sure if I've been productive, or not productive. x3 (It feels like I made quite a bit of progress on some things I'd been wanting to get done for a long time, but it also feels like I wasted a lot of time doing things like watching AMVs, and just procrastinating in general. xD)

Thanks so much for reading, and I can't say how much I appreciate all your kind thoughts. Here's the next one, and see you at the end! :J

* * *

Chapter 9: Scent

Edythe left before Jules arrived. I tried to convince her that all this was just plain stupid—refusing to even be in the same house at the same time—but to no avail.

"It's just easier this way," Edythe said from the door. "For both of us. Trust me, this much cooperation between our kinds is quite a leap in and of itself—one step at a time. Don't worry, I won't go far."

A mischievous look came into her eye then, and her hand still holding mine pulled me closer. She pressed her face to my neck, then let out a long breath, chilly against my bare skin. Goosebumps rose on the back of my neck.

"I'll be back soon," she murmured, then laughed, amusement glittering in her eyes.

I frowned as I watched her turn and head toward the trees, wondering what was so funny.

Shaking my head, I turned back to the kitchen to get started on the dishes. Before I even had the sink halfway full, the doorbell rang. It never failed to startle me how fast Jules could be—faster than her usual reckless driving in her car.

"Come in!" I called over the rush of the running tap. I poured a squirt of dish soap in the water, then started grabbing dishes to set down in it.

"Hey," Jules said from right behind me, making me jerk in surprise.

"Do you always have to do that?" I said, frowning at her. "Just because you've got the silent-stalking-wolf thing going on now doesn't mean you have to go around scaring people."

Jules shrugged. "Sorry. I guess I don't think about it. I'll try to be loud next time I go into a room with you in it. I'd hate to give you a heart attack."

I rolled my eyes. "Don't you have a job to do? Like going around smelling things?"

Jules grinned and suddenly stood stiff, saluting. "Yes, sir, right away, sir." She relaxed. "So where do you think the scent's the worst?"

"Probably my bedroom. That's where they were, whoever they are."

Jules's eyes narrowed, and she didn't look happy at that. "I'll be back in a minute." She turned and disappeared up the stairs.

I methodically scrubbed the plate in my hand. All was quiet but for the scratching of bristles against ceramic. I listened for something from above, the squeak of a floorboard, the click of the door.

"Yeghh!" complained a voice inches behind me. The plate I was holding splashed in the sink, splattering the front of my shirt with soapy water.

"You _are_ doing that on purpose," I accused, turning my head to glare at Jules, who was standing behind me again.

"Maybe you're just not paying attention." She added, "Here, let me help with that." Jules snatched up a towel and grabbed the plate I'd picked up again, and held it under water before rapidly drying it off. She set it in the drainer, ready to be put away.

"The scent was easy enough to pick up," she said. "Your room absolutely _reeks—_ though I guess part of that's your vampire girlfriend you keep in there."

"If you're going to be like that, you can go and sit in the other room."

Jules grabbed the next dish from me and washed it off. "I'll be nice," she promised.

We worked in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

"Hey," Jules said as she set a bowl in the drainer. "Can I ask you something?"

"That depends if you're keeping your promise to keep it nice."

"I'm not asking to be rude or anything. I'm just kind of...morbidly curious."

I sighed. "What is it?"

She paused, staring down at the plate she was polishing. She eyed the milky reflective surface. "What's it like...having a vampire for a girlfriend?"

I snorted. "What kind of question is that?"

Jules looked at me. "I mean it. It really, honestly never bothers you? Never creeps you out?"

I shook my head. "No, it doesn't."

"Huh," she muttered, frowning. "And...do you, like...kiss and stuff?"

I snorted again. "She's my girlfriend, what do you think?"

Jules wrinkled her nose and shuddered. "What about the fangs, though?"

I shoved her hard with my shoulder—only succeeding in giving myself a bruise. "Oh, shut up. You know she doesn't have fangs."

"Close enough," she muttered.

We were silent again for a minute.

At last Jules asked softly, "One more?"

Something in her tentative tone kept me from answering with a sarcastic remark. "Yeah?"

Jules stared hard down at a boning knife I'd handed her, rotating it over as she held it under the running water. "You said...after graduation. When exactly?"

I eyed her warily, worried I might set her off. "Very soon," I answered in a low voice. "We haven't decided an exact day yet." Soon enough that Sulpicia wouldn't have time to get edgy and send someone down here to check on us, but Edythe also wanted to get married before then.

"So soon," Jules breathed. Her fingers curled unconsciously around the handle of the knife and she stared down into the reflective surface, a deep slash forming between her brows.

When she noticed me watching her from the corner of my eye with some concern, she suddenly grinned.

"Hey," she said. "Let me show you something."

Holding her hands over the sink, she carefully pressed the flat side of the blade to her palm, staring down with concentration.

"Hey," I began nervously. "Careful, that knife is—"

Jules suddenly jerked her other hand back, slicing a bright angry line of crimson right through her palm.

My shout of horror drowned out Jules's slight gasp of pain, and I dropped the plate I was holding. I scrambled to find something to cover the wound, all the time stuttering out half-finished exclamations of panic and outrage.

"Are you crazy, you—I can't believe you just—what were you trying to—"

"Stay here, you idiot," Jules called after me as I finally located a clean white towel. "Look."

I didn't want to look. I smelled the wound and I was already feeling queasy and nauseous.

"Just hurry and wrap it up," I insisted. "That's a bad cut—it'll probably need stitches now. Look, I don't care how upset you are, I don't want you to ever—"

"Stop having a fit over there, I'm fine. Look."

I still didn't want to, but I thought it was better if I assessed the damage, to see how hard I should insist we go to the hospital. However, as my eyes flickered down to her outstretched palm, I did a slight double-take, then frowned.

"Was it that hand or the other hand?"

Jules rolled her eyes. "This hand. Look." She raised it a little higher.

I took her hand between mine and examined it. There was a pink, puckered line where I was sure the cut had been, a wound that looked weeks old.

"How..." I began slowly.

"Werewolf thing," Jules said casually. "We heal fast. I told you that before, remember?"

I stared at the scar for a long minute, and my frown deepened, quickly turning to a scowl. My eyes suddenly flickered back up to Jules.

She seemed to be studying my reaction very closely, and though her smile was easy and full of careless bravado, her eyes were wary, apprehensive.

"What?" she said. "Don't tell me you're freaked out now." She tried to make her tone offhanded.

"You shouldn't play around with stuff like that," I said severely. "For all you know, using that fast-healing power or whatever takes years off your life every time you use it. It could be draining your life force."

Jules stared at me for a second, then burst out laughing. " _Life force_?" she snickered. "Let me break out my _Magic The Gathering_ cards."

I didn't smile. "It's not funny."

"Beau, there is no exchange, years off our lives or whatever. Healing is just something we do. In fact, I'll probably outlive any normal person by a lifetime or two, if not more. Didn't I tell you that? We don't age, at least not while we're regularly phasing into wolves."

I grumbled. "I don't care if you are some kind of super-human werewolf, don't hurt yourself for no reason. That's stupid."

Jules put up her hands in surrender. "Sure, sure. Swear not to do it again, all that."

I kept grumbling to myself as I checked to make sure no blood had gotten onto the floor, then looked into the sink. I quickly turned on the faucet and used the rag to scrub the spatters of blood. I tried to work quickly, not breathing in. Then, seeing I had no more dishes left to do, I reached down and pulled the plug to let the dirty water drain.

Jules watched in silence. However, as I draped the now clean rag over the faucet, she said at last, "Can I ask you one more question? This is the last one, I promise."

I sighed.

Jules glanced down, eyes on the linoleum tiles. "Does it...ever creep you out? Having a best friend who's a werewolf, I mean."

I laughed in surprise, and when she looked at me, I was grinning. "Well, now that you mention it, you _do_ kind of freak me out."

Jules was half smiling, but her eyes were uncertain. "Do I?"

I nodded. "But, considering you freaked me out when you were still all human, I don't think that's got anything to do with the wolf thing. Sorry. I guess you're just a freak."

Jules shoved me lightly with her shoulder, then suddenly laughed. "If I'm a freak, what does that make you?" she asked, grinning.

"The freak's apprentice?" I suggested.

Jules laughed. "You really are a closest _Magic The Gathering_ player. I bet your closet's stacked with boxes of cards."

Jules was happy now, and she threw an arm around my shoulders. However, when she started to turn her head toward me she suddenly gagged and pulled away. She put a hand over her nose and mouth and said in a muffled voice, "Ugh, what a stench. You have no idea. You need a shower in the worst way."

I remembered the crafty look in Edythe's eyes when she'd breathed on my neck, and I was pretty sure she had planned that. I sighed.

"Neither of you smell bad to me."

Jules grinned. "No offense, but you don't have the best sense of smell in the world. Or the best sense, period."

She backed up a step, glancing in the direction of the door. "Well, I guess I better get going. She's outside, waiting for me to go. I can hear her...and smell her." She wrinkled her nose.

"You're never going to get over that, are you?"

"Nasal assault is something you don't get over."

She started to turn for the door, headed toward the back way, but then she paused again and glanced back.

"Hey, by the way, we're having a bonfire tonight. Kind of a celebration thing. Think you could come? That would be awesome. Elliot's gonna be there. And Quil. She's so ticked that you were in on the gig before she was, let me tell you."

I laughed at that. I could just imagine Quil raging at having some dweeb buddy of Jules palling around with the werewolves while she was still clueless.

I shrugged, hesitant. "I don't know, Jules. Things are kind of tense right now."

"Come on, you think someone's going to get past all—all six of us?" She stuttered over the words at the end. I wondered if, even now, sometimes she had trouble saying the word _werewolf_ aloud.

She folded her hands in an over-the-top plea.

I smiled a little. "I'll ask, but I really doubt it."

"I could kidnap you again," she suggested brightly. "You have to make a statement. Let her know you aren't going to let yourself be controlled. Or you'll be on her leash the rest of your life. I saw a special on manipulative, abusive relationships recently."

I folded my arms, scowling. "Correction, Edythe and I will discuss it, and I'll see if she convinces me if it would be a good idea or not."

Jules grinned. "You're good. Great way to euphemize it."

"I thought you were leaving?" I growled, squaring my shoulders in preparation to run her off.

Jules laughed. "See you, Beau. Hope to see you tonight." And she disappeared through the back door before I could say anything more. I sighed and ran a hand through my hair.

Barely seconds after she was gone, Edythe appeared in the doorway of the kitchen. Rain had darkened her bronze hair, the drops glistening in the strands. Her eyes were wary.

"What happened?" she asked slowly. "Is everything all right?"

I beamed when I saw her. "Hey," I said. "You're back." I put my arms out and Edythe obligingly stepped into them, winding her arms around my back. I pressed my face into her hair, breathing in deeply. Definitely did not smell bad.

"Yeah," I said. "Everything's fine. Why?"

"Well," Edythe began, pulling back from me and frowning a little, "I was wondering why there seems to be evidence of an attempted murder."

I followed her gaze to the counter next to the sink, and realized I'd missed the bloody knife. "Shoot. I forgot about that."

"Do you need me to cover anything up for you? When it comes to bloody murders and removing the trace evidence, I have some experience."

I grinned and leaned down so I could kiss her on the cheek. "Would you cover up a murder for me?" I asked.

Her eyes glittered. "Oh, definitely. Especially if it involved a werewolf."

I went to the counter to start cleaning up the mess. "Actually, she did it herself. I thought it was some kind of morbid self-penitence, emo thing at first, but I think she was just being a dork."

Edythe sighed, shaking her head. "Wolves," she muttered. She reached inside her jacket. "By the way, I got your mail." She casually tossed a large envelope on the counter.

I eyed it suspiciously. She was suddenly looking way too pleased.

"What is it?" I asked.

Edythe shrugged. "Come take a look."

I finished up with the knife and put it away, then slowly approached the letter as if it might have a bomb.

I saw it was a legal-sized envelope, which Edythe had folded in half. I had to use both hands to smooth it open—the paper was the heavy, expensive kind. My eyes went to the address.

" _Dartmouth_?" I said in disbelief. "You've got to be kidding."

"I haven't opened it, but I'm sure it's an acceptance," Edythe said. "It looks exactly like mine."

I stared down at it for a long time, then my eyes went back up to Edythe. "Okay, murder or blackmail?"

Her brows contracted. "What?"

"Murder or blackmail," I repeated. "Because the only way you could have gotten me in was either you murdered someone in a key position and filled it with one of your own people, or you found some pretty heavy blackmail on someone somewhere. I want to know which it was."

Edythe rolled her eyes. "Beau, you're being ridiculous."

I shook my head. "It doesn't matter. You know I couldn't afford the tuition, and there's no way I'm letting you just throw away that kind of cash just to pretend I'm going to Dartmouth next year."

"It doesn't have to be pretend," she said. "One more year wouldn't make a difference. You might be surprised to find out you actually enjoy it. And think how excited Charlie and your mother would be..."

Before I could stop it, a flicker of an imaged played through my head. Charlie and my mom _would_ be proud—I could imagine Charlie going completely out of his usual element and telling everyone he knew, and probably half of Jacksonville would know before my mom was through. It would be embarrassing beyond words, and yet, I couldn't escape the fact that I did like the idea of thrilling my parents like that. And going to classes, learning new things, meeting new people, all with Edythe there, right at my side...

I shook my head, trying to clear the image from my brain. "I'm sure Sulpicia would be happy about that," I noted.

Edythe wrapped an arm around me again, reaching out to take my hand. "Don't worry about Sulpicia," she insisted. "She might have said after graduation, but this isn't going to be a priority for her, especially not right now."

I frowned. "What do you mean, not right now?"

Edythe sighed. "You know that newborn vampire, causing trouble down in Seattle?"

I nodded slowly.

"Normally the Volturi would have stepped in by now. But from what Archie can tell, Sulpicia is preoccupied with another threat in Europe, and she doesn't want to spare anyone."

I frowned. "Why don't they just take care of the threat and go back to their normal business?"

Edythe shrugged. "Archie can't see everything. But it seems like whoever is heading up this particular rebellion knows what he's doing. Sulpicia will likely outmaneuver him eventually, but it will probably take time."

I thought about that. However, I shook my head. "I'm mailing what's left of the contents of my bank account to Alaska tomorrow. That's all the alibi we need. It's far enough away Charlie won't expect a visit until Christmas at the earliest, and I'm sure I'll be able to come up with some excuse by then." I shook my head, smiling a little. "You know, this whole secrecy and deception thing is kind of a pain."

Edythe's brow furrowed and she looked at me very seriously. "It gets easier," she said quietly. "After a few decades, everyone you know is dead."

My gaze dropped. We were both silent for a long minute. At last, I felt Edythe's cool hand on my cheek and she gazed up into my eyes.

"Won't you consider waiting?" she asked softly. "If I can get this all resolved, and Archie can satisfy us that Sulpicia's not coming for a while?"

I shook my head. "It's better not to procrastinate."

"When it's something that will completely alter your life as you know it, perhaps rob you of your soul, maybe it is."

I pulled away from her and went to the sink. Wanting to change the subject, I picked up the washrag I'd used to clean the sink and held it up. "Can you still smell blood on this? Maybe I should run it through the wash."

Before Edythe could answer, I suddenly remembered something.

"By the way, did Archie do something with some of my stuff? He didn't take half my clothes to be professionally washed and pressed somewhere, did he? Because I'd like to have them back. I've been wearing these jeans for two days."

Edythe frowned slightly, confusion in her eyes. Then she looked at me sharply. "Are you saying some of your things are missing?"

"Well, yeah," I said, confused by the sudden intensity in her expression. "I guess he cleaned up my room, and did some laundry. But not with our washing machine. I think he must have taken it back to your place, then forgot about it."

"You noticed this right after you got back from our house?" she asked.

I nodded slowly. "Yeah. I was kind of looking for them when you came over and noticed—"

I froze, and I suddenly understood why Edythe was looking at me with such alarm.

"What exactly was taken?" she asked sharply.

I tried to think. "Um...some things...my pillow...clothes laying around my room...and a bunch of dirty clothes from the hamper."

"Things you touched," Edythe whispered, pale. "Things you slept on...used. Archie didn't take anything from your room, Beau. It was your intruder. He was gathering things—things with your scent."

I shook my head. "But why? What could he want with that?"

I felt Edythe's arms around me again, holding me to her. One of her hands touched the back of my head, pressing my face to her shoulder. "I don't know," she murmured. "But I swear, Beau, I _will_ find out."

We stood like that for a moment longer, before I heard the buzz of Edythe's phone in her pocket, feeling the vibration in her jacket against my side.

Edythe drew it out and checked the ID, then put it to her ear.

"Carine? I'm glad you called, there's something—" She broke off, listening. "I'll look at it. Yes, I agree, I think we will have to do something...And that's not our only problem." She explained about my missing clothes, but Carine didn't seem to have any guesses either, as her reply was short before Edythe said, "Maybe I can go...No, on second thought, let's leave it until later. Don't let Eleanor take off on her own, just tell Archie to keep an eye on things. I'll talk to you again soon."

She snapped the phone shut and turned to me. "Did Charlie throw out today's newspaper already?"

"I think so, why?"

"Give me a second." Edythe disappeared, and for a moment the patter of the rain outside grew louder as the door opened, and before I could say a word, Edythe was back again, damp newspaper in hand.

She spread it out on the table, quickly scanning the contents of the front page through narrowed eyes.

"What is it?" I asked, leaning over her shoulder.

The headline of the _Seattle Times_ read: "Murder Epidemic Continues—Police Have No New Leads."

I could tell immediately it was a continuation of the story Charlie had been complaining about a few weeks back. With only one difference—this time the numbers were significantly higher. The death toll was escalating.

"It's gotten very bad," Edythe murmured. "Completely out of control. This can't be the work of simply _one_ newborn. Whoever they are, either they are ignoring the rules, or they simply haven't been informed. But who could be so careless...? The creator has to know he'll be executed the moment Sulpicia steps in..."

I swallowed, as I pictured an entire enclave of new, blood-crazed vampires wreaking havoc on Seattle. People were dying...innocent people. Left and right.

"What can we do?" I asked hoarsely.

Edythe continued to stare down at the paper, brow furrowed. "We will have to intervene soon. It's possible that if we can speak to the young ones, explain the rules, then all can be resolved peacefully..."

I stared down at her. "Do you think so?"

Edythe sighed. "More likely any attempt to reason with any of them will fall on deaf ears, and it will come to a fight. That's why it will be better if we don't step in until absolutely necessary, at least until we have a better picture of exactly what's going on. Depending on how many of them there are, it could be dangerous. It would better if Sulpicia took care of it."

"Will she?" I asked. "If this gets worse than whatever it is going on back in Europe?"

Edythe sighed. "I don't know. Archie will keep watching her, but she hasn't shown any sign of dispatching anyone, though she is aware of the situation." Edythe shook her head. "In a way, I'd almost rather she didn't send anyone. Coming this close to us...She might decide to send someone to see us. And she might decide to find a way to impose her will where you're concerned."

I shrugged. I didn't say anything, but as far as I was concerned, that was fine by me. It wasn't safe for anyone in my family or the vampire world for me to remain human. That much Sulpicia and I could agree on.

"So if it does come to a fight, you could be in danger?" I asked.

"It's unlikely," Edythe said. "We are all older, experienced fighters, and our abilities also give us an advantage. So even if there are as many of them as there are us, we shouldn't have a problem. But they are also very strong, so a moment of carelessness around them can be fatal. So, if we do end up in a fight, I'll be glad we have Jessamine on our side."

"Jessamine?" I said, frowning. "Why?"

Edythe smiled darkly. "Jessamine is, how shall we say, something of an expert when it comes to young vampires."

I stared at her a minute, nonplussed, but instead of explaining, Edythe said, "So. Didn't you have something you were going to ask me?"

I frowned. "Did I?"

Edythe's eyes glittered. "That is, I thought you were going to discuss with me the possibility of going to spend the evening amidst a pack of werewolves, and see if I would convince you it was too dangerous or not."

I stared at her. "What—were you listening to our entire conversation?"

"Just the last part," she said. "The very end."

I glanced down. "Actually, I wasn't going to ask you. I figured you have enough on your plate to stress out about right now."

Edythe bent slightly, looking up into my face. "Do you _want_ to go?" she asked.

I shrugged. "It doesn't matter. This isn't really the best time."

"I don't want you to worry about that," Edythe said softly. "Just tell me what you would _like_ to do, disregarding Seattle and everything else. I told you before, I'm not going to be your jailor anymore—I'm your partner, so if there's something you want, then I want to help you."

I stared down at her. The truth was, I did want to go down to La Push. It was a dumb thing to want, to just hang out around a bonfire with a bunch of reckless teenage girls, goofing around and trying to act tough, when things were really getting serious with attacks and deaths down in Seattle, and other possible dangers besides. But Jules had a way of making even the most terrifying things seem trivial, and what I really wanted right now was to relax and have someone make me laugh.

I shook my head, trying to shake it off. I didn't want to run off and be worrying Edythe right now of all times.

Edythe slipped her hand into mine. "I told you, I'm going to trust your judgment. And I know a pack of werewolves will be more than enough to keep you safe for one evening, no matter who that intruder might have been."

I didn't know what to say. "Are you sure?" I said at last, slowly. "I mean, I don't have to go."

Edythe squeezed my hand. "I'm only happy as long as you're happy."

"Well...okay, then." I smiled tentatively back, but I was still uncertain. I studied her face for signs or worry or anxiety, but I saw none.

She leaned up and kissed me gently, affectionately on the cheek.

* * *

When I told Charlie my plans for the evening, he approved, and seemed almost enthusiastic. "Have fun, kid," he said with a smile. "Stay as long as you like."

When I called Jules to let her know, I could almost see her fist pump on the other end as she congratulated me on my persuasive skills, and wanted to know how much threatening and manipulating I'd had to do.

Edythe was going to drive me down to the border, and Jules was going to pick me up, as the both of them agreed that until all this was taken care of, I shouldn't be alone even for a moment. Edythe told me to think of it as being an important personage, like the president of a country, who had to have bodyguards around him at all times. Instead, it made me think of when I was a kid, and my mom would pass me off to Charlie for the summer. I felt like I was seven years old again.

Still, I couldn't argue how dangerous things were right now, especially with the unknown intruder apparently specifically targeting me for some unknown reason, so I didn't complain, and quietly took the cell phone Edythe gave me, so I'd be able to let her know when to pick me up.

It also occurred to me that now would be a good time to return my motorcycle to its home in La Push. The time I wouldn't need it anymore was fast approaching, and I still felt like Jules ought to profit from her work somehow.

When I told Edythe what I wanted, she didn't seem surprised. She only said mildly, "I thought you would want to take it back there eventually." However, even though she was smiling as she said it, I thought I caught an odd note or resignation in her voice.

When we went to retrieve the bike from where I'd stashed it in the garage, I found that someone had cleaned it up from that muddy day on the road, even cleaning out the tread on the tires so it looked almost like new—or as new as it had ever looked for a bike made half with scavenged parts from the dump. However, I noticed there was something sitting on top between the handle bars, conspicuously red and round.

I picked it up and stared at it. "What is this?" I asked, eyes narrowed.

"Please," was all Edythe said.

I turned the helmet around, and I tried to imagine what I'd look like wearing it. It wasn't a pretty image. "Come on, Edythe...seriously? Do you know how stupid I'd look?"

"What would look stupid is if you cracked your head open on the pavement because you were afraid of not looking cool."

I turned the helmet over again. Like I ever looked cool. "Okay, I'll wear it," I muttered.

"And take this," Edythe said, pulling something black and shapeless from a box nearby. It looked like some kind of padded jacket.

"It's a riding jacket," she explained. "I hear road rash can be very uncomfortable."

Sighing, I shoved on the helmet and stuffed my arms in the sleeves of the jacket. I fumbled for a minute with the zipper before Edythe finally took pity on me and did it for me. Then she stepped back to examine her triumph.

I folded my arms across my chest. "Be honest. I look like a dork."

Edythe pursed her lips, considering. "No...actually, it looks good on you. Very tough-guy. I think you're ready to join a biker gang."

I snorted. "Yeah, right. You don't have to lie. I'll wear them anyway. You're right, to have survived vampires and werewolves all this time only to get my head bashed in would be kind of embarrassing."

Edythe laughed, then leaned up to kiss me on the cheek. "You know," she said. " _I_ was thinking of getting a motorcycle."

I gaped at her for a moment. And I realized I had no trouble imagining her on one. Probably something big and silver that moved like a bullet. Black helmet with a full-faced visor over her head, bronze hair whipping out behind her, gray jacket rippling in the wind.

I stared down at my sad little bike, and it was a formidable image.

"Oh," I said.

Edythe studied my expression.

"But, I decided against it," she said. She smiled ruefully. "I realized this is something you do with Julie Black, and no one else."

I didn't know how to answer.

Seeing my expression, she smiled, a real smile this time, showing her dimples. "Thanks for wearing the helmet," she said, and leaned up to kiss me.

* * *

Edythe drove me down. At about the halfway point to La Push, she rounded a corner and I saw Jules leaning against the side of the red Volkswagen she'd built herself out of scraps. Her expression was smooth and even, devoid of emotion. However, when she caught sight of me, her mouth split into a huge smile.

Edythe parked the Volvo thirty yards away, then we got out to get the bike and my new gear—I almost couldn't believe it had all fit in the truck, but Edythe had managed it somehow without much effort.

Jules watched us carefully, her expression wary now, her dark eyes hard to read.

The bike stood near me on its kickstand and I set the helmet on top and laid the jacket across the seat.

Edythe leaned close and said softly. "Be careful. Call me when you're ready to come home."

"Sure," I said. "Don't worry, I'll be fine."

I felt Edythe's delicate, cool hand brush my cheek, and she leaned up. I thought she was going to give me a light goodbye kiss, like she often did, but to my surprise, she suddenly wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me down to her, and I felt her cold lips against mine. I reacted before I'd consciously given my brain the command, my arm locking around her waist, my other hand going to her cheek.

It lasted longer than Edythe normally allowed, before she finally pulled away from me, her eyes glowing. She laughed quietly at something. I grinned back like a dork.

"See you later," she said softly, holding my hand. "Have fun."

I nodded, then started to turn away, my hand pulling away from hers as I took a grip on both handle bars of the bike and kicked off the stand. However, just before I'd turned away completely, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flicker of a new emotion in her eyes. Something like panic.

However, when I turned back around to look, she was already getting back in her car, and I figured I must have imagined it. I turned away, and pushed my bike toward the invisible vampire-werewolf treaty line to meet Jules.

"What's that?" Jules called, eying the bike warily.

"Just putting something back where it belongs," I said, then smiled.

Jules considered that for a second, then her face split into a grin even broader than before.

I knew exactly when I crossed the boundary line, because Jules pushed away from her car and loped over to me easily.

"So, you made it," she said, beaming as she took the motorcycle from me, and hit the kickstand. Then her eyes flickered to the Volvo behind me and her grin suddenly turned crafty. Without warning, with one arm she suddenly pulled me into a hard hug, temporarily cutting off my air supply.

The Volvo's engine gave an ominous growl.

"Hey," I said, trying to shove her off. I could almost see Jules grinning at the Volvo over my shoulder. "Cut it out!"

Jules laughed and let go, and I spun around, but the silver car was already disappearing around the curve in the road. I glared at her.

"Why don't you just pull your eyelid down and stick your tongue out next time?" I asked. "Seriously, what are you, five? She's trying to be nice, you know."

Jules looked at me, exasperated. "Oh, come on. She was being just as immature as I was, and you know it. Why am I the one who gets the lecture?"

"Because," I grumbled, knowing full well I sounded like a parent when they didn't have a good answer.

"That's what I thought."

I rolled my eyes as Jules pushed my motorcycle over to the Rabbit and started loading it into the spacious trunk.

"Let's just go," I muttered.

Jules's dark eyes were twinkling. "You'll cheer up in a minute. I think you're going to like it."

* * *

A/N: Quite a few different little things here and there this time. I always have to pay attention to try to make sure to get the details all right, particularly for those things that have been changed from the original. x3

As always, let me know your thoughts, and I'll be working on the next one. C: (Next one is one of the chapters I mentioned before that I had a tough time with. However, I've been working on it and editing it over time, so I'm hopeful it won't take too much longer than the others to get out. Wish me luck! :J) See you next time!

Posted 4/10/17


	11. Legends

A/N: When I first read this chapter, I thought, 'Maybe this is one I can cut down, the legends aren't really that important to the overall story, right?' But in the end, it actually ended up being...ridiculously long. (Seems like I'm back to the 10,000 word chapters I used to do in my other stories. x3 And I really thought I had cured myself of that.)

On a side note. I originally intended to find all new names for the tribal stories, but when I first wrote the chapter, I just stuck in the original names, since I figured that would make it easier to keep track of who was who, and make it easier to go back and replace them with the new names. But as most of the names sounded as though they would work as either male or female, at least to me, I got so I started thinking of them with the original names anyway. So in the end I just left them as-is.

Thanks so much for reading so far! Quite a few things I really struggled with this chapter, and I'm afraid it's a bit rougher than other chapters. (Mainly flow issues.) But, hope you'll enjoy it anyway. C: See you at the end~

* * *

Chapter 10: Legends

"Where does it all go?" I muttered. "Seriously. That has to defy a law of physics somewhere."

We were all sitting around a giant bonfire, and I was watching Paula spit yet another hotdog. I'd long since lost track of how many I'd seen her shovel down, and she wasn't the only one—all the wolves had consumed way more meat than should have been physically possible, given their weight and size.

Paula noticed me watching her with a kind of horrified fascination as she pulled the dog off into a bun and slathered on a liberal amount of ketchup and mustard.

"You got a problem, punk?" she demanded. "Huh?"

"Hey," Jules called. She was sitting on the ground in front of me, her back against my knees, carefully cooking a hotdog of her own to perfection. "If you cool it over there, I'll give you mine. It would be a nice to have one that isn't half charcoal, don't you think?"

Paula glanced down at the blackened skin of her own. "I like them that way," she said defensively.

"Sure you do." Jules shot a grin over her shoulder at me.

I watched the fire crackle, slowly burning lower and lower into the sand. A small gust of wind suddenly ignited a bright puff of orange which burned brightly against the black sky—I blinked, and realized I hadn't noticed how late it had gotten. Hanging out with Jules and the rest of the werewolves, the time had just seemed to fly by.

In all honesty, I'd been a bit worried about how the others would react to seeing me again. The last time I'd really hung with the werewolves had been before the vampires had come back. I figured they must see me as a traitor now, and I was half picturing a big wolf fight like the one I'd seen on the road once a long time ago. I was queasy at the thought—the last thing I wanted was to screw up what was supposed to a time to relax and have fun.

But when Jules and I had gone out to the clifftop, where a cluster of them were at work on an already impressive blaze, everyone seemed to be in a light, festive mood. Emma had waved at me, while Quil had jokingly told me that she still hadn't forgiven me for figuring out the secret first and conveniently forgetting to tell her. Only Paula told me to make sure to keep the bloodsucker stench downwind, though even she said it in a teasing tone. Elliot even gave me a thumbs-up as Jules and I sat down.

It had felt a little strange, but nice—almost as if I'd gone back in time. I was part of the wolf crowd again.

Bonnie and Quil's grandmother Quilla were also there. Quilla had a particular ancient look about her, with her silver white hair and deeply lined face, her dark skin folded and weathered as tree bark. Saul Clearwater and his two children, Lee and Sarah, were there, too. I knew Holly Clearwater had been on the council before she had passed away and from the way Bonnie and Quilla spoke to Saul, it seemed he had taken Holly's place. Apparently that meant Sarah and Lee were also now in on the secret.

My eyes went briefly to Lee, sitting with his legs folded, staring into the flickering flames with an unfathomable expression in his eyes. He'd really bulked up since the last time I'd seen him, and shot up what looked like at least a foot. Maybe he'd been putting in some time at the gym, or maybe he was just hitting that age. He looked like he could benchpress two hundred pounds without breaking a sweat.

I shook my head, and wondered what he must be thinking now, now that he knew the secret that had driven a wedge between him and Sam, and turned her feelings toward Elliot. Now that he knew, would he feel he had a chance to win her back? Or would he even want to—knowing the truth of what she was?

Sarah had sat down next to Jules and she looked content just to be there, included. With her cheerful smile, she reminded me a little of a younger Jules, before her change.

I wondered if Sarah would be joining the pack, too. Maybe that was the real reason she and her older brother had been allowed in on the secret. However, the thought of little cheerful Sarah turning into a wolf and going to fight vampires made me shudder, so I decided to do my best not to think about it.

I tilted my head back to gaze up at the velvet night sky and sighed. "It's getting late," I commented.

Jules, having given her last hotdog to Paula, had gotten up to sit beside me on the rock. She rolled her eyes. "Not _that_ late. Besides, you have to at least stay for the stories. This is actually a council meeting, you know. I told you parts of the legends kind of second hand, but it's better all together, trust me. This is going to be Quil, Sarah, and Lee's first time hearing them, too—well, hearing them and knowing they're real."

I had to admit, my interest was piqued. "You mean, like the stories of the..." I glanced around the circle, and my voice dropped. "...cold ones?"

Jules nodded. "Yeah. They're the histories we all always thought were legends, of how we came to be. But, the cold one stories don't come until later. First is the story of..." She paused, then smiled. "Well, guess you'll find out."

I looked around and noticed everyone had gone quiet. Everyone was sitting a little straighter than usual, and all eyes were turned toward the council members. Bonnie sat in the middle, with Saul on one side, and old Quilla on the other. However, I blinked and I realized that Sam was sitting on the far side of them, sitting up in the same rigid posture, facing the same direction, and I suddenly realized she was part of the council, too.

The fire crackled, sending another explosion of sparks glittering up against the night.

Bonnie began, and her voice was unusually deep, almost majestic. "The Quileutes have been a small people from the beginning. And we are a small people still—but we have never disappeared. This is because there has always been magic in our blood. Now it is the magic of shape-shifting, but before, it was a different magic. Before we were shape-shifters, we were spirit warriors."

There was perfect silence around the circle, but for the crackling of the fire. Elliot was leaning forward, elbows on knees, looking intent, while Sarah's eyes were round with eager anticipation. Lee's eyes were closed and he seemed to be concentrating on all of Bonnie's words.

"In the beginning, the tribe settled in this harbor, and became skilled builders and fisherman. But the tribe was small, and the harbor was rich in fish. Other, larger tribes coveted our land, and they moved against us. We were forced to take to our ships to flee them.

"Kaheleha was not the first spirit warrior, but we do not remember the stories that come before hers. We do not remember how our people came to possess this power, or the knowledge of how to use it. But Kaheleha was the first great Spirit Chieftess in our history, and it was in this crisis that she first used the magic to defend our land.

"Now, all the women of the tribe possessed the power of the spirit. They could leave their bodies and travel great distances, while animals could see them and understand them. Always, the women had used this power to aid the men in hunting and fishing. At that time, the woman the most skilled at using this power was Kaheleha, the wife of the Ya'kil, the chief of the tribe.

"Ya'kil was a gentle, peaceful man, who did not wish to fight and risk bloodshed of his people. Once they had fled, he did not intend to return to the rich harbor that had been their home.

"Seeing that her husband intended to do nothing, Kaheleha went to see him in his tent to speak to him.

"'We must not give up our lands to these barbarians,' she said. 'Shall we forever run from harbor to harbor, as rabbits from a fox? If all the lands where we know we may find food are taken from us, how shall we even last through this next winter? Please, my dear husband, allow _us_ to go. Our spirits can travel far, and we can stir up the animals against our enemies, and send howling winds through their camps to terrify them. We will reclaim what is ours.'

"The chief, though troubled and fearful, granted her bold request. And so, all the men stood watch over the women's bodies as their spirits journeyed back to the harbor, their home which had been stolen from them.

"In spirit form, the women could not touch the enemy, nor could they be touched, but instead sent screaming winds through the harbor. The invading tribe also kept packs of large, thick-furred dogs used to pull sleds in the frozen north, and the women turned the dogs on their masters, and they brought up a great infestation of bats from the cliff caverns. There was a great battle, but the men were confused and terrified. The survivors scattered, calling the harbor a cursed place. The women returned to their bodies and their tribe, triumphant, and took back their stolen land.

"The other nearby tribes, the Hohs and the Makahs, came to us to make treaties, wanting nothing to do with our magic. And Chief Ya'kil named his wife, Kaheleha, the new chief, saying, "'Our tribe must have a great warrior who will keep our people safe, and she is the greatest warrior of all.'

"And so, Kaheleha became the first great Spirit Chieftess of the tribe, and it was from that day forward that always the Quileutes had a woman to lead the tribe. Kaheleha became a powerful spirit warrior, and her fellow warriors grew fierce and valiant as any man. They drove off any enemy that dared come against us, as did all the Spirit Chieftesses who came after her.

"Generations passed. Then came the last great Spirit Chieftess, Taha Aki. She was a wise woman, who ensured peace and prosperity for the people. They lived well and content in her care.

"But there was one of the Taha Aki's spirit warriors, Utlapa, who was not so content."

A low hiss went around the fire at the name. I looked over, but was too slow to see where it started. Bonnie continued.

"Utlapa was one of the most gifted spirit warriors the tribe had ever seen. However, against the counsel of Taha Aki, she took a husband from one of the neighboring tribes.

"Now, this man had been wandering for some time, cast out by his people for his unquenchable yearning for power. When he learned of the magic of the Quileutes and his wife, he told his wife that the tribe could use their magic to expand their lands, to enslave the Hohs and Makahs and make the Quileutes great. And soon, for Utlapa, her husband's dream became her own.

"Now, when the warriors became their spirit selves, they knew one anothers' thoughts. Taha Aki saw what was in Utlapa's mind, and warned her sternly against allowing such black desires to taint her thoughts. Utlapa agreed, but her husband continued to speak of an empire, only igniting Utlapa's passion to seize and rule over other lands further.

"At last Taha Aki told Ultlapa that to remain with the tribe, she must banish her husband—for his words were like poison in the water. Utlapa loved her husband very much, and chose to leave the tribe rather than be parted from him. Taha Aki forbade her from ever using her spirit self again. However, by her husband's suggestion, they both still lingered nearby, waiting for an opportunity for Utlapa to avenge herself on Taha Aki. She thought perhaps if Taha Aki was dead, the others may well welcome the two of them back.

"Even in times of peace, Taha Aki was vigilant. Often she would journey to a sacred, secret place in the mountains, leaving her body behind so that she could sweep the forests and ensure that no enemies approached.

"One day when Taha Aki left to perform this duty, Utlapa and her husband followed. Utlapa meant to kill Taha Aki the moment her spirit left her body, but as she and her husband hid in the rocks, watching, waiting, she began to grow afraid. Surely the others would suspect her, and then they would hunt her down and destroy her. However, another plan occurred to her.

"Taha Aki left her body in the secret place and flew with the winds to watch over her people. Utlapa waited until she was sure the Chieftess had traveled some distance, then abandoned her own body.

"Utlapa knew that Taha Aki knew the moment she had entered the spirit world, and that she also knew Utlapa's plan. But the winds were not fast enough to bring Taha Aki back in time, and Utlapa took over Taha Aki's body.

"When Utlapa's husband saw Taha Aki get up and his wife still lay motionless, he was terrified. He fell on his knees before who he believed to be Taha Aki, and told her he had been against this plan from the start, but had been afraid of Utlapa if he went against her, for she was a wild and dangerous woman. He begged for mercy.

"Shocked, Utlapa saw her husband with new eyes, and she cursed her own folly. She realized then that if he were allowed to live, he may guess her secret and give her away to the others. Taha Aki had trained her body as well as her spirit, and so Utlapa struck down her husband.

"Now, Utlapa knew that were she to return to the spirit world and her own body, Taha Aki would attack and surely kill her for her treachery. Her only path then was to live on as Taha Aki.

"With the death of her husband, her heart became as hard as stone, and she slashed the throat of her own body to prevent Taha Aki from seizing it. Then she journeyed back down the mountain to the people.

"Utlapa took Taha Aki's place as tribe Chieftess. First, she ordered that no warrior enter the spirit world, saying that she had had a vision of danger. She knew that if any of the warriors entered the spirit world, they would meet Taha Aki and immediately know the truth. So the power of the spirit was gone, as were her husband's dreams of an empire and wide conquest. But Utlapa was content with power over the tribe.

"Utlapa ruled with an iron hand. She pushed the people to work beyond what they were able, trying to build the tribe's wealth without aiding in the work herself, and was merciless to those who defied her.

"Taha Aki watched the injustice with sickness and horror. When at last she had seen enough, she summoned a fierce wolf down from the mountains, to kill her own body. However, Utlapa remained safely hidden behind the men of the village. When the wolf killed one of the young men, the husband of one of her spirit warriors, Taha Aki was struck with grief, and ordered the wolf away.

"Now, Taha Aki suffered greatly, being nothing but spirit without a body for so long. Leaving one's body behind was always disorienting, unpleasant, which was why the power was only used in times of great need, and why none of the women had been eager to disobey Utlapa's new edict. Her spirit writhed in ever increasing agony as she began to despair that she would remain in torturous nothingness forever—doomed never to cross over to the final land where her ancestors waited, forced to watch the imposter beat the life out of the people she loved.

"The great wolf Taha Aki had brought from the mountains followed her where she went, sensing her pain and its own way, trying to comfort her.

"At first Taha Aki was repulsed by the beast that had killed one of her tribeswomen, though she knew she herself had brought it about. However, soon she was comforted. The wolf was a companion who, though not fully understanding her plight, knew she was here, that she existed. A friendship formed between the two, and where the spirit of Taha Aki went, so did the great wolf.

"Taha Aki spoke to wolf, and told her that, though her spirit may be beautiful, she envied the wolf her magnificent, powerful body, her beautiful, glossy fur—just simply for being a part of the real world.

"An idea occurred to Taha Aki then—an idea that seemed terribly selfish, and would require a great sacrifice from the friend she had grown to cherish. But she knew she could not remain in the spirit world much longer.

"So she asked if the great wolf could make room for her in that great body, to share. The wolf readily complied, and Taha Aki entered the wolf's body with gratitude that could not be measured.

"As one, Taha Aki and the wolf returned to the village on the harbor. The people ran in fear, shouting for the men to come. The men came with their spears, and the women, former spirit warriors, came behind, for they also knew how to fight and wished to protect their children. Utlapa remained behind, so she would not be in danger from the threat.

"Taha Aki did not strike at the warriors. Instead, she retreated slowly, and with her new strange, wolf voice attempted to imitate the sound of the songs of their people. The warriors realized that the wolf must be under the influence of a spirit, and an older women among the spirit warriors, Yut, decided to disobey their spirit Chieftess's order, so that she could communicate with the wolf.

"The moment Yut crossed to the spirit world, Taha Aki left the wolf to speak with her. Yut learned the entire truth in an instant, and was happy and relieved to have their true Chieftess back.

"At that time, Utlapa came to inspect the work of the warriors, and if they had yet dispatched the beast. When she saw Yut lying motionless, and the circle of protective warriors standing around her, she knew what was happening. Before any of the tribe could react, she drew her knife—Yut, seeing what was about to happen, returned to her body, but before she could speak one word of warning, Utlapa stabbed her through the throat.

"'I am sorry, my dear sister,' Utlapa said, for the sake her audience. 'But I could not allow your foolish actions to doom the tribe.'

"Taha Aki watched Yut's spirit slip away to the final lands, and Utlapa feigned a great grief. Taha Aki was filled with a burning fury greater than she had ever known, and she raced back to the wolf. Perhaps she could not make the people understand, but she could at least tear out Utlapa's throat and save her people.

"But as Taha Aki returned, reconnecting with the wolf, a great and wondrous magic took place. Taha Aki's rage at Utlapa's cruelty and injustice were not the simple emotions of a wolf, and though the wolf had tried to help, had never been able to fully understand. The emotions of the human spirit were too great for the wolf to contain, and, as a great shudder rippled along her spine, the next moment it was no longer a wolf that stood before them, but a woman.

"The figure before them did not resemble Taha Aki—not the former Taha Aki of the physical world. Rather, this was the embodiment of Taha Aki's spirit, made flesh. She was tall, beautiful as the rising sun. Though none of the male warriors recognized her, all the former spirit warriors, who had seen her spirit, knew her at once.

"Utlapa did not react. She simply stood, gazing upon the glorious form of her former Chieftess, the one she had betrayed. Taha Aki's new body was lean and powerful, for she possessed the strength of the wolf, and Utlapa knew there was no hope to run or fight.

"'You will now receive your just reward for how you have acted,' said Taha Aki. 'I will not allow you to use that body to commit any more crimes against our people. There is no escape for you.'

"However, Taha Aki was still a kind soul and, feeling pity for her enemy even in that moment, hesitated to slay the woman. For Utlapa had not always been so cruel, and it was love for a terrible man that had hardened and twisted her heart.

"Utlapa smiled. 'Though we are not spirits, I know your thoughts, sister. You were always a weak woman, filled with childish notions. How could you lead our people? How could you keep them safe? You were too wretchedly kind, too self-sacrificing. Even now you do not do as necessary. Perhaps you may kill this body, but my spirit will live—and I will haunt these mountains until I may have my vengeance, and achieve all I desire.'

"Taha Aki immediately saw the error of having pity on her former warrior—Utlapa's mind was too twisted, too far gone. She lunged, but knew she would be too late, that Utlapa would escape to the spirit world, and continue to be a danger to her people.

"Now, Ultapa knew the pain of wandering bodiless in the spirit world, and she had no intention of suffering as Taha Aki had suffered. Her tribe knew her true face, and she had no home to ever hope to return to. Rather, her words to Taha Aki were her final act of vengeance—to ensure that, along with the kindness and compassion that had always been in her heart, restlessness and doubt would also linger. And so Taha Aki, with the new strength of a wolf, struck down Utlapa, and she allowed the spirit to be crushed from her.

"The people celebrated Taha Aki's return and the demise of the oppressor. Taha Aki took her place once again as the tribe's chieftess, and she stopped the cruelty and overbearing workload. However, as Utlapa had hoped, Taha Aki continued to be troubled by the memory of Ultapa's final moments. That her failure to act may have jeopardized the people and if, as cruel and twisted as her former sister had become, if there may have been a grain of truth in her ways.

"The name of Taha Aki became great among all the tribes, and she was called Taha Aki the Great Wolf. Though she removed most of Utlapa's edicts, she also forbade any of the spirit warriors to leave their bodies as they had in the past. She feared that more mischief may be caused if all knew that bodies could be stolen, and so the method for going to the spirit world was lost forever. Instead, when the tribe needed to be defended, Taha Aki would transform back into the wolf, and fight off or frighten any enemy. She was a fierce warrior, more fierce than before, and the people lived in peace.

"Taha Aki did not age, and she defended the tribe for many generations. She bore many children, and some of the daughters found that, once they had reached the age of adulthood, they could also change into wolves, and they aided their mother in defending the tribe. Her sons and daughters had children of their own, and some of them, too, discovered they could become wolves. Not all the daughters born with the magic chose to use it—they did not become wolves, and they aged as the rest of the tribe. Some of the daughters who fought alongside their mother also tired of the duty, and as they gave it up, they discovered that they, too, would once again begin to age.

"Taha Aki eventually grew weary. Though her body was young, her mind was old. But she feared to leave her daughters, to pass along the great burden she now bore to another. She had slain many enemies, and she bore the responsibility for every death. Taha Aki still remembered Utlapa's taunting words at the end, and since had been merciless many times when she would have rather been kind. She feared that were she to pass the responsibility to one of her precious daughters, the girl would be crushed, or she would become hard-hearted and cruel as Utlapa had been.

"Now, at that time, her last husband—the second, after the first had passed on of old age—had passed away many years before, and her daughters wished her to take another. When they became wolves, they knew one another's minds, as the spirit warriors had done, and they could feel in their mother's thoughts that she felt very much alone, and her heart was heavy.

"Taha Aki did not take the most powerful of the warriors of the tribe, as was the custom, but rather chose one of the least of the warriors, a humble, gentle man, who she had watched tenderly care for his ailing mother before she had passed on. He truly loved Taha Aki for her kindness and love for the people, and Taha Aki, though she had loved her other husbands, found she loved him in a way she had never loved before. He healed and revitalized her exhausted spirit, and her daughters were happy to see her vigor and joy returned.

"When she saw how much her mother loved her husband, Taha Wi, Taha Aki's oldest daughter, who had run with the wolves the longest, went to her mother and asked if she might not lead the pack, so that her mother might finally be allowed to age and grow old, as others already had before her, and so pass on to the final lands with her husband. Taha Aki had already done more than what any among the tribe could ask of their Chieftess.

"Taha Aki was reluctant, but her husband sided with Taha Wi, and together they convinced Taha Aki to relinquish her burden. And so, Taha Aki lived, aging with her husband.

"And that is the story of how the magic came to us," Bonnie completed. She took a long drink of water and wiped her forehead, and I blinked, suddenly brought back to the present. I'd been so involved with the story, I'd lost track of time and where I was.

I knew this couldn't be the end of the legends because we hadn't gotten to the cold ones yet. I looked at Bonnie expectantly, but she turned her eyes to old Quilla Ateara, and she shifted in her seat, straightening her shoulders.

"But that was not the end of the story," Quilla began in a thin, but somehow still quietly powerful voice. "That was the tale of the spirit warriors. Now is the story of the tribesman's sacrifice.

"After Taha Aki gave up the spirit wolf, and passed responsibility on to her oldest daughter, she lived for many years and grew old. The tribe remained at peace, for Taha Wi had watched her mother and learned well. However, trouble began to brew in the north. Women from the neighboring Makah tribe had disappeared, and the Makahs blamed the wolves. They were angry, and threatened war. The wolves knew that none of their number were to blame, for of course they knew one another's thoughts, but the Makahs would not be pacified. So Taha Aki told her daughter that they must find the true culprit.

"So Taha Wi took the five others wolves of her pack up into the mountains to seek out evidence of what had happened to the missing Makahs. There they came across an odd scent they had never before encountered—a strange, sweet smell that burned their noses to the point of pain."

I swallowed hard, but I listened with rapt attention.

Ancient Quilla spoke faster now, her rasping voice urgent. "They followed the scent, and along the trail they began to pick up the faint scent of humans intermingled with the sweet, burning odor. And they smelled human blood. Taha Wi began to suspect that this was the enemy they were searching for.

"As they journeyed further and further north, at last Taha Wi commanded half the pack, the three youngest, to return to the harbor and report their progress to Taha Aki. They did not wish to leave, but Taha Aki had to know what they had found, and some had to remain to protect the tribe in case the Makah chose to attack. They could not fight her commands, and so reluctantly they obeyed.

"The three returned to the village to wait for Taha Wi and their other two sisters' return. Every day they transformed, to connect their minds to that of Taha Wi to find where she and the others were. But one day when Yaha Uta, the oldest daughter to Taha Aki by her third husband, and the youngest member of the pack, changed as she did faithfully every day, she was met with only silence.

"Taha Aki was deeply grieved at the loss of her three daughters. She regretted giving up responsibility, for she would have rather she died in Taha Wi's place. She longed to rejoin the pack to help the others hunt down this strange, new threat to her people, but she was old and frail, and could not. Instead she did what she could now, going to the Makahs in mourning clothes to tell them of all that had happened. The Makahs saw Taha Aki's great agony, and knew she spoke the truth, and threatened the Quileutes no more. Yaha Uta and the other two daughters begged for permission to seek out the monster with the sickeningly sweet scent and destroy it, to protect the village and avenge their sisters.

"However, Taha Aki, terrified to lose more of her daughters, dissuaded them. If they left, who would defend the village? And clearly it would not do for them to split up to face such an enemy. So her daughters remained at the village. Perhaps the creature had left, frightened of the three wolves it had come across.

"However, one year later, two more Makah maidens disappeared, just as before. The Makahs called on the Quileutes for aid at once, and Yaha Uta and her sisters discovered the same sickly scent all over the Makah village. They were eager to take up the hunt once again. Taha Aki, heart heavy, went to speak with her husband.

"'I must let them go,' she said. 'For how can we sit by and see more of our neighbors lose their people? But my heart also asks, How can I let them go? Isn't it enough to lose three of my precious daughters? I have relinquished sons and daughters willingly before to old age, and I rejoiced that they would go to the final land after a long, good life. But this?'

"Her husband replied, 'You are right, it is not an easy thing, dear one. For myself, I, too, would not see them go. For the Makahs are not our blood. Yet they are like us, and we know fear as they now feel. Once, long ago, I know you used to journey up the mountain, to a secret place, and despite the pain of the spirit world, you entered it and swept the forests for enemies to protect our tribe. Then you chose to take up the body of the wolf, and live on, keeping your body young when your mind was old and weary. You have made great sacrifices for our people. Now, you must make a sacrifice greater than them all—sacrifice, not yourself, but allow the ones you love dearly to make their own sacrifices, as you made yours.'

"Taha Aki knew her husband spoke great wisdom, and she loved him all the more. 'I will do as you say,' she replied. And she added, 'If they do not return, I do not know how I shall bear it, but I believe, my dearest one, so long as I have you, I shall live through anything. I shall continue to do as I ought for the people, through fire and war.'

"And so that same evening, Taha Aki summoned her daughters, and told them to follow the scent and find the creature responsible for the Makah women's disappearance.

"Days passed, and Taha Aki's worry grew. But her husband was there to comfort her, as were two of her youngest daughters.

"At last, Yaha Uta returned. She was alone, and she carried a strange, cold, stoney corpse, which had been torn to pieces. The thing reeked of the odd sweet, burning smell, and they knew this was the enemy of the Makahs.

"Yaha Uta's aspect was grim as she explained to her mother what had happened—how she and her sisters had at last caught up with the creature. The creature resembled a woman, but she was pale as death with skin hard as granite. Both the Makah women were there—their empty, mangled corpses. Around the creature's mouth were dark stains, and her eyes glowed the color of blood.

"One of the sisters, enraged by the sight of the dead Makah women, lunged to attack. But the creature's strength was fierce, and it was as fast as the wolves, and the creature broke the sister's neck with one terrible blow. Yaha Uta and the remaining sister were cautious now. They used their numbers to their advantage, coming at the creature from two sides, hemming it in. They were forced to use all their speed and strength, and they stuck at it with their teeth, again and again.

"But the creature was fast and clever, and at last it lunged, getting its powerful pale hands on Yaha Uta's sister.

In that instant, the creature's attention was diverted from Yaha Uta, and Yaha Uta lunged for the neck, tearing the creature's head from its body. Still the creature fought on, and Yaha Uta tore it to pieces. However, her other sister was already dead.

"When Yaha Uta returned, she believed the creature to be destroyed, but when the pieces were laid out to be examined by the elders, before their eyes they watched the pieces slowly begin to creep along the ground, as the creature's body attempted to reassemble. Fearful and horrified, the elders set fire to the remains, and the air was filled with a choking, vile smoke. Then they took the ashes and spread them far and wide. Taha Aki took a pouch and placed some of the ashes inside it, wearing it around her neck, so if the creature tried to reassemble itself again, she would know."

Quilla Ateara paused in her story, and her eyes shifted to Bonnie. Wordlessly, Bonnie pulled a leather thong from around her neck, which I couldn't be sure if I had ever noticed before. At the end was a small pouch, blackened with age. I sucked in a breath as I realized what it was.

Quilla continued. "They called it the Cold One, the Blood Drinker, and they feared that the monster was not alone. Now the wolf pack was down to one, young Yaha Uta. And even as fierce and valiant as she was, she did not know if she could destroy another alone. She hoped that perhaps others might join the pack soon, so their village would be protected once again. She had two younger sisters, not yet of age.

"But Yaha Uta was still alone when the second blood drinker came.

"This blood drinker looked like a man, and he had the same unearthly beauty, the same hard, cold skin. His eyes were a deep black, but they, too, were beautiful. This was the other creature's mate, and he sought vengeance for her death. He spoke to the tribespeople on the edge of the village, his skin glittering in the light of the rising sun, trying to ask them a question in a foreign tongue. Dazzled by his unearthly radiance, they wished to answer but could not understood.

"Only one small girl, the only one of Taha Aki's bloodline there, put a hand over her face, collapsing to her knees and moaning of a terrible stench. A passing elder, on her way to council, heard the girl and, seeing the creature, knew instantly what was happening. She cried a warning—before the creature struck her dead.

"Many witnesses had seen the Cold One's approach, but he killed them with ease. Only two escaped—because the creature became distracted by the smell of blood and halted to sate his appetite. Those two ran to the tent of Taha Aki, where she sat in counsel with the other elders, as well as her three daughters and her husband.

"Yaha Uta was enraged at the deaths of her tribespeople, and transformed into the great wolf to destroy the creature. Taha Aki followed, along with the others, the elders, her other two daughters, and her beloved husband.

"Yaha Uta followed the sickly sweet stench and the trail of broken bodies, until she reached the harbor. Some of the tribespeople had fled to the ships for refuge, but the creature swam like a shark and broke the bow of their boat with incredible strength, then swam after each who tried to swim away and broke them, too. However, when he caught sight of the great wolf on shore, he returned, and in a moment he stood before Yaha Uta.

"He was more radiant than Yaha Uta could have imagined, with the great body of a warrior, and hair like sunlight. However, his lips curled back from his teeth like a beast, and he asked another incomprehensible question. Then they fought.

"Yaha Uta fought with great strength and vigor, but the creature was fast and experienced, and there was no hope to distract him even for an instant. At last Yaha Uta fell."

"Taha Aki saw the last daughter who had taken up the burden of protecting their people in her place, and she was filled with a wild grief that turned to rage, a rage at the injustice she had once felt in her younger days. And once again, as she had not done in so many years, she became the wolf. The wolf was bent with age, the fur of its muzzle white as the hair on her head, but her anger and grief gave her strength. The fight began anew.

"Now the elders and the Taha Aki's husband, her third and the one she loved more than any who had come before, stood by and watched the battle. Her husband knew that she could not win. She was weak with age, and the creature was young and strong. And once she fell, the creature would slaughter the rest of the tribe, all the elders, and his remaining two daughters.

"'I am sorry I am not a great fighter,' he said to himself. 'But I have tried to help my wife as best as I was able. Please, dear wife, know that I have always loved you, and understand what I must do.'

"The husband had been there when they had heard the stories. Of how the distraction of her sister's death had allowed Yaha Uta to kill the first creature, and how some villagers had been able to escape when the creature had become distracted by the blood of the bodies of the fallen. And so he knew, even though he was not a great warrior, and now he was old and feeble, he could still do something to aid his wife, to do his duty and give his own sacrifice for the tribe, as his wife had done so many years.

"Taha Aki's husband drew a dagger from his belt and raced toward the creature, blade raised high. The creature did not react, only its lip curled with disdain at such a foolish, pointless attack. He turned, smiling, ready to strike Taha Aki down, then take care of the others.

"But the husband did not attack the blood drinker. Instead, he fell to his knees at the creature's feet, and plunged the dagger into his own heart.

"The blood drinker froze for an instant as fresh blood spurted from the wound, bright crimson in the light. His monstrous instincts for a moment consumed him, and he turned on the man, mouth opening wide.

"Though the monster was before him, about the consume him, the husband did not look at the creature. Instead, he looked to his wife, old and frail with age. Though her wolf face could show no emotion, he saw the horror in her eyes. The look they shared was but an instant, but Taha Aki saw in that moment the strength in her husband's eyes, and a silent plea—a plea for her to understand.

"The pain Taha Aki felt pierced her soul, but through the pain she did understand—understood he had sacrificed himself for the things they both held dear, their precious daughters, and the tribe.

"And so, as the blood turned his full attention irresistibly on the dying man, Taha Aki took advantage of his distraction. With her great teeth, she tore out his throat, and his head was detached from his body. In the same instant, the two younger daughters, seeing their father's death, were filled with such grief and hatred of the creature, they both transformed for the first time. Together, they tore the creature apart, and the elders burned it.

"Once the fight was finished, Taha Aki resumed her human form and went to sit beside the body of her husband. There she remained for an entire day, weeping with such bitterness and despair that her two daughters began to believe that it would be better if she were to pass on, so that their mother may go to join him in the final land.

"However, the next morning, Taha Aki got up, and though her face was still streaked with tears, she calmly ordered that his body and all the others be taken care of in the usual way of the tribe.

"When the two young daughters spoke to their mother, asked if she would soon pass on, she replied, 'Your father did his duty to protect the tribe. Now I shall do mine until my end comes. You are both young and still in need of guidance. I will stay with you as long as I am able—and so I hope he will have nothing to reproach me with when at last we meed in the final lands.' And so she did, until at last old age claimed her, and her spirit was freed.

"From that time on, the tribe experienced little trouble with the cold ones. The wolves now knew how to fight them, and the blood drinkers seemed always taken by surprise to meet them. The daughters of Taha Aki, and their daughters, and their daughters, always kept a pack of three wolves, and it was enough. Though occasionally a wolf would die in battle, never again was the pack decimated as before. Knowledge of how to fight them was passed on, generation to generation, wolf mind to wolf mind.

"Time passed, and it grew so that descendants of Taha Aki no longer became wolves after reaching maturity. Only when the cold ones drew near, and the need arose would there be another wolf pack. Even then the cold ones never appeared in more than one or two, and so a small pack was always enough.

"Then a larger coven came, larger than any we had ever seen—and Elda Black, the leader of the pack, and the rest prepared to fight, to the death if necessary. But there were too many and the chance of victory slight. But then, the leader of the Cold Ones approached Elda Black, and spoke calmly, peacefully. She said they had no desire to harm the Quileutes, and that they would rather they try to coexist, to live in peace and understanding with one another. Elda Black saw that the woman and the rest her fellow cold ones had strange yellow eyes, not the crimson red of the monsters. And, seeing again that they were outnumbered, agreed to the terms the blood drinker suggested. So long as they did not bite or consume the blood of a human, and so long as they kept to their own land, they would not attack.

"Their numbers have now forced a larger pack than the tribe has ever seen," Old Quilla said. Her ancient black eyes traveled slowly around the circle, then came to rest on me. "Except, of course, in Taha Aki's time."

She breathed a deep, rattling sight through her old, cracked lips. "And so the daughters of the tribe once again bear the burden of their ancestors, making the great sacrifice."

All was silent for a long moment. I kept my head bowed in respect, but my eyes traveled briefly around the circle, from one pair of sad eyes weighed down with responsibility to the next.

At last someone spoke, and the low flippant voice seemed oddly jarring in the mystical mood of magic.

"Burden, yeah," said Jay. "But you've got to admit, it still has its moments."

"You think if I play up this burden thing, I'll be able to get a few miles out of it?" Quil added. "Yeah Dad, sorry, I didn't get my homework done again. It's because I was out hunting vampires."

Bonnie chuckled a little at that, and the mood shifted, the magic seeming to fade into the glowing embers. The fact that the young women sitting here were all the descendants of Taha Aki, still carrying on the centuries-long battle against the Cold Ones, faded to the background again, and they were all just a bunch of friends again, teenage girls laughing and talking about guys and having a good time. Low conversations murmured all around us, teasing and casual.

Lee Clearwater's eyes remained closed, and though his face appeared smooth, I thought I saw the barest hint of a furrow in his brow in the flickering firelight.

Neither Jules nor I spoke. She was quiet, and her breathing was deep and even as though she was on the verge of sleep.

I stared deep into the fire, and the stories of so long ago turned slowly in my mind. I wasn't thinking about wolves or spirits or vampires. I wasn't thinking about anything mystical or supernatural at all—rather, I was thinking about the love between Taha Aki and her last husband, left unnamed in the story. Taha Aki had been the one with all the powers, the sharp mind for leadership, the body of the wolf that let her protect the people. Her husband had just been an ordinary guy, not even a strong warrior by human standards. But he had loved her, done what he could to try to keep her sane. And in the end, he'd saved his wife and tribe—not by being powerful, or a great fighter, but by his own sacrifice. And in doing it, he'd looked to his wife for acceptance, understanding. And in spite of how much she loved him, needed him, her love had been such that she had given it to him. She lived on, living as she knew he would have wanted her to.

The tragedy of it was heartrending. Yet there was something undeniably beautiful as well. I wondered if...

I blinked as I felt someone shaking my arm.

"Yo, we're here."

I blinked again, squinting and frowning as I realized the fire was gone. I shook my head, disoriented, and as I looked around I saw I was no longer on the cliff. I was in the front passenger seat of Jules's car.

I sat up suddenly with a start. "What time is it?" I said, alarmed. "Did I fall asleep?" I began patting my pockets frantically for the phone. Crud, I had really stepped in it this time.

"Relax," Jules said bracingly. "It's not even midnight." She reached over and picked up a small boxy thing from the dash and waved it. It took me a second to realize it was my phone.

"And I already went ahead and called her for you, so don't worry. Look, she's right over there, waiting."

"Midnight," I muttered, shaking my head and trying to blink the sleep from my eyes. I looked down at the phone as Jules offered it to me. I woke up a little more then and I turned to look at her in wonder. "You called her for me? Really?"

She rolled her eyes, and my eyes were just adjusted enough to see the white gleam of her grin in the gloom. "Don't give me a good Samaritan award or anything. I just figure if I play nice, she won't have an excuse to go ballistic and stop you from coming over again."

I smiled. She was trying to be nonchalant and cool, but I still appreciated it all the same. After all her talk about how I should just stay and not go back, it was good to know I could trust her when the chips were down.

"Thanks, Jules," I said. "I mean it. You're the best. And thanks for inviting me down here tonight. That was really amazing."

Jules's smile was wide. She rubbed the back of her neck, and for the first time, looked a bit self-conscious. "Thanks for coming. It was kind of nice...I mean, for me. Having you there."

I noticed a flash of movement in the dark distance up ahead. A pale figure—pacing back and forth, wearing a hole in the ground.

"Patient, much?" Jules muttered, eying the figure, too. She shrugged. "Well, guess you better go. But hurry back, okay?"

"Sure." I cracked open the car door, and cold air blew across my face, making me shiver.

"Have a good sleep," she said. "Don't worry about anything, I'll be out there in the woods, keeping an eye out for any trouble."

I paused, then frowned. "You really should be getting some rest. I'll be fine, you don't need to do that. Sleep's kind of important."

"Sure, sure," she said, waving a hand dismissively, but I thought she sounded more patronizing than agreeing.

"Night, Jules. See you."

"Good night, Beau," she said softly, and I felt her eyes follow me as I headed off up the road.

Edythe was waiting for me almost right at the boundary line, and almost the moment I was across it her arms were around me in a relieved embrace, her face pressed against my shoulder as she breathed in my scent.

"Sorry," I mumbled, feeling like a jerk. "I should have called. I just totally dozed off, and—"

"I know," Edythe cut me off, running her fingers through my hair soothingly. "Julie Black explained." She turned toward the car, and I did my best to follow, though my legs felt stiff and unwieldy.

"You're tired," Edythe said, keeping an arm securely around the back of my waist. "Here, lean on me."

"I'm fine," I answered, though I did put an arm around her shoulders. Her skin was cold against mine, and it made me shiver.

"I think you need a bed," Edythe said as she half pulled me toward the car. "So how was it? Did you have a good time?"

I grinned a little. "Oh yeah, it was pretty awesome. They told us some of the old Quileute legends—man, does Bonnie know how to bring a story to life. And to think they all really happened..."

"You'll have to tell me about them," Edythe said, smiling. She added, "Though maybe not until you've had a chance to sleep." I was sagging against her, my toes trying to catch on something every other step.

Edythe somehow got me in the car, and I leaned my head against the side window, eyelids already sinking again. Bright lights suddenly flashed across our windshield, as Jules fired up her car. I smiled a little and waved, though I couldn't be sure she saw me in the darkness.

* * *

Charlie didn't give me as much trouble as I expected when I got back, as apparently Jules had had the foresight to call him, too.

I headed upstairs, and though I was having trouble keeping my eyes open and my body felt heavy, I didn't immediately drop myself down on the bed. Instead, I went and opened the window, waiting for Edythe as she took the Volvo back to her house. I shivered, and was surprised by how cold, even wintry the air was. I hadn't noticed it on the windy cliffs—probably because I was sitting next to Jules.

Icy droplets spattered my face as it began to rain. It was too dark to see much of anything but the silhouette of the forest. Even so, my eyes scanned automatically, looking for a small, pale form darting through the trees like a silver panther, or the dark, shaggy outline of a great wolf...But of course, my human eyes were too weak to make out anything.

Then I saw a movement in the night right beside me. A moment later Edythe slipped through the open window, her delicate hands even colder than the rain.

"Did you see Jules out there?" I asked, shivering again as Edythe slid an arm around my back and briefly pressed her face to my shoulder.

"No," she said. "But she is out there—somewhere. Earnest is going home now."

I sighed and shook my head. "They shouldn't have to do this. It's cold and wet out there."

Edythe laughed softly. "It's only cold to you, Beau," she reminded me.

I managed to smile a little, but I shivered again.

That night, as I slept beside Edythe as always, my dreams were cold, too.

I dreamed I was standing outside in the storm, the wind whipping my hair, stinging my eyes. I realized I was on the rocky crescent of First Beach, and as I looked out, I dimly saw shapes moving in the darkness. A flash of white and black, darting like lighting toward each other, then dancing away. I squinted, trying to see. Then, as if the moon had broken over the clouds, everything suddenly came sharply into focus.

The white shape was Royal, magnificent, powerful, his eyes black as pitch and his hair like sunlight. He was a blur as he lunged toward the black shape—an enormous wolf with a muzzle shot through with silver hair that I immediately knew was Bonnie Black.

I tried to shout at them to stop, but no sound came from my mouth as my voice was snatched away by the howling wind. My eyes scanned the scene, and I saw figures standing back from the beach, watching the fight with fearful, somber faces. There was Saul Clearwater, and Old Quilla, and Sarah, too, her eyes wide with terror. I saw the form of a great wolf, lying motionless on the ground. Its russet fur was soaked with blood.

I knew what would happen to the rest of them if nothing was done. I didn't have time for fear or grief as I stared at Jules's body—dead or just hurt, I couldn't tell. My eyes dropped to my hands, and I realized for the first time that gripped in my right hand was a sharp silver blade. I knew what I had to do.

I raised my eyes to the fight once again, and I realized it was no longer the old wolf Bonnie Black there, but a small form, pale as the assailant, her long bronze hair fluttering as she wove in and out of the powerful attacks.

I met Edythe's eyes for a fraction of a moment as I raced toward Royal, raising the blade high, silently pleading for her to understand.

Her painfully beautiful face contorted with horror and she turned toward me. I heard the sound of blood splash against the ground, and the smell filled the air.

I slowly dropped my eyes to my chest, untouched, then to the blade, still a clean, glittering silver. A white hand gripped my wrist, holding the dagger away.

I stared down at her for a second. Then slowly, numbly, I raised my eyes to the scene before me. Royal was standing there, only it was no longer Royal. His hair was red like fire, his sinewy stance like a lion. His eyes glowed crimson, his teeth stained red as his mouth spread in a hideous grin.

I awoke with a jolt to the quiet darkness of my bedroom. I heard a thump of a book falling to the floor, and looked up to see someone was sitting on the bed beside me.

Edythe laid down beside me, propping herself up on one elbow so she could peer down anxiously into my face. Her cool hands stroked my forehead, smoothing back my hair. "Are you all right, Beau?" she whispered. "Did I wake you?"

I shook my head, wiping some of the cold sweat from my forehead. "Just a nightmare."

"Would it help to tell me about it?"

I hesitated as images from the dream flickered through my head again. "I probably won't remember it in the morning." I said, looking away.

I felt Edythe's cool arms wind around me, tucking my head under her chin. Her lips brushed my hair, and I heard her hum a little, the tune I recognized as the lullaby she had composed for me.

My eyes felt heavy, but as I glanced down, I noticed a heavily creased book on the floor.

"Were you reading?"

"Yes," Edythe said, and I could picture her slight smile. "Your _Frankenstein_. You left it out."

Through my grogginess, I was faintly surprised. "I didn't think you liked that one."

Edythe laughed softly. "I don't."

It wasn't until I was on the brink of unconsciousness again, that, so softly I thought I might have dreamed it, Edythe added, "But there are somethings I can relate to, I suppose...What the monster wants most. But I think his creator makes a good point, as well. There's always that chance it would have turned out that way..."

Edythe said something more, but by that time, I was already asleep.

The next morning came, overcast and still. Edythe asked me about the dream again, but I couldn't remember too much, and what little I could remember made me think I didn't want to tell her. Edythe kissed me for a brief goodbye, then left to go home, to change and get her car.

I got dressed quickly, then started to turn for the door, ready to head down to breakfast. However, I paused as I noticed my copy of _Frankenstein_ still lying on the floor. I went to grab it to set it on the nightstand, but I noticed it was laying open, the damaged binding holding it flat. I remembered hazily Edythe's cryptic remarks the night before, and I paused to briefly scan the page.

" _And she, who in all probability was to become a thinking and reasoning animal, might refuse to comply with a compact made before her creation. They might even hate each other; the creature who already lived loathed his own deformity, and might he not conceive a greater abhorrence for it when it came before his eyes in female form?"_

I frowned as I looked down at the passage. I knew this scene very well. The monster Victor Frankenstein had created had asked, if his creator would not treat him with kindness as an equal, that Frankenstein create another monster to be his companion. But Frankenstein, who despised the monster he had created, wondered if, after creating her, she might hate the monster too and leave him anyway, or he might despise her.

I wondered if this was the passage Edythe had been reading, and what she might have found so interesting about it. I scanned the page again, and as my eyes fell again on some of the words, I felt a chill down my spine. _"...loathed his own deformity, and might not he conceive a greater abhorrence for it when it came before his eyes..."_

I shook my head quickly, and set the book with a decided thump on the nightstand. That probably wasn't what she'd been reading anyway.

* * *

A/N: In the original, this chapter is about as long as the other chapters. But somehow, in this reimagined version, it turned into a monster...

The original stories are, of course, based in real Quileute legends from what I understand, excepting the story of the cold ones. (There are legends of cold ones in other Native American tribes, but nothing in the Quileute legends.) However, there had to be quite a few changes made to make it work as a story for the gender-swap, so this version naturally had to be quite a bit different. It might not have as much of a 'legend' feel as the original (I feel like it would be a bit of a problem for the elders being forced to memorize all that dialogue I put in the stories x3), but I was hoping to go for something that would fit in thematically with the rest of the Reimagined story.

Anyway, thanks so much for reading! I know this chapter is rougher than some of the others, and is probably a more difficult read (this was by far one of the most difficult chapters, and I put a lot of time into trying to improve the sense of flow, but I know I didn't really solve everything), but if you have a moment, let me know what you thought. C: See you next time~

Posted 5/2/17


	12. Time

A/N: Hey there! Back again. C:

Eh, I noticed there might have been a problem when I posted the last chapter. (That is, when I posted it, it gave me an error message, and when I looked later I noticed the update date never changed. I also didn't receive a notification email like I normally do, so I had a feeling those of you who normally receive alerts probably didn't this time either.) I guess it's not a huge deal, but I'm sorry if there was anyone who didn't see the update. Hopefully this time everything will be working properly.

Anyway, a more normal chapter this time, I keep hoping the last one wasn't too hard to push through.

Thanks so much for reading, hope you enjoy, and see you at the end! :J

* * *

Chapter 11: Time

We were headed out to Edythe's car after school, when Archie sprung the news on me.

"So by the way, we're having a graduation thing. Me, Edythe, and you."

He said this brightly, as though expecting me to throw an arm over his shoulder and exclaim, "Really? You're the greatest, man, let's go wild!"

I could only stare at him. Either in shock or horror, I wasn't sure.

"I was planning to leave it as a kind of surprise deal," he went on. "But I saw you totally freaking out if I did, and Edythe threatened to tell you if I didn't."

I sighed. "Is there any point in arguing?"

Archie flashed a grin. "None whatsoever. Invitations are already in the mail."

"Fine," I grumbled. "I'll be there. And I promise I'll hate every minute of it."

Archie slapped me on the back. "That's the spirit. By the way, I dig what you got me—you know me too well."

I frowned. "I haven't got you anything."

Archie shrugged. "I know. But you will."

My frown deepened. I tried to remembered what I could have decided to get him that he could have seen, but I was completely drawing up blank. That was great—something else to worry about.

Edythe folded her arms and shared a look with me. "Annoying sometimes, isn't he?"

I shook my head. "Well, I am glad you didn't try to throw me in the middle of a party without some advance notice. But for future reference, you could wait a little longer to tell me next time. I'm just going to be dreading it for weeks now."

Edythe and Archie both stared at me, then shared a look.

"Uh," Archie began. "You know what day it is, don't you?"

I shrugged. "Monday?"

"Yeah. Monday. The _fourth_." Archie suddenly seized me under the arm, and spun me around to face the gym door. On it was taped a big yellow poster, in bold black letters declaring the date of graduation. Exactly one week from today.

I stared, stupefied. It was the fourth—of _June_? Where had the time gone? All the weeks of stress and worry, and now—

Now my deadline was almost here.

All along I'd been anxious to move on to the next phase, to get on with things so I could join Edythe and we could finally be together. But now that the time was here, I suddenly realized I wasn't ready. When I left my humanity, there were people I would have to say goodbye to. Charlie, my mom...Jules. But I didn't know how to say goodbye. Not yet.

Being human was all I knew. And very soon, that would all change. My human life was about to come to an abrupt end. I realized I hadn't known just how truly terrifying the thought really was until now it was almost upon me.

I was out of it as I got in the car and Edythe, apparently noticing my abstraction, didn't try to talk to me as Archie went on animatedly from the backseat.

Edythe dropped Archie off at their house, and after that we ended up at mine. Edythe led me over to the sofa, and I followed her automatically, though my thoughts were still miles away. I stared vaguely out the window into the murky gray haze outside. I knew what I wanted, what I had decided on. But the future was shrouded, an unknown quantity. I wanted my future to be with Edythe, but...

But.

I just sat there for a long time, staring out the window. Edythe sat silently beside me, and it wasn't until the rain was disappearing into darkness that she finally spoke.

"I'm glad I made Archie tell you," she said softly. "This is even more of a reaction than I expected. Your lips are white."

I realized I'd been holding my breath, and I let it out in a heavy gust. I shook my head. "It's not that. I guess...I just didn't realize graduation was that soon. I don't mean the graduation thing with Archie, I mean...figuring everything else out. Charlie...my mom...What am I going to say? How I should...what I should...before..."

I couldn't say anymore. Understanding washed across Edythe's face and she gazed up at me. The pounding rain outside suddenly sounded louder in the quiet.

"You're not ready," she whispered.

"I am," I answered, responding in reflex. But in this moment it was a lie, and Edythe knew it. I swallowed, then said quietly, "I have to be."

Edythe gripped my hand. "You don't have to be anything," she said earnestly. "Isn't that what I've been telling you all along? You don't need to rush this. All the human experiences you haven't had...when you change, the last thing I want is for you to be left with any regrets."

I shook my head, trying to get my thoughts in order. "I'm nothing but a liability to you as I am now. A target for Victor, and whoever was in my room. And Sulpicia said..."

Edythe gripped my hand harder. She pressed her face against my neck and murmured, "No. I won't let you change because you feel obligated or afraid. If it's going to happen, it has to be your choice—because it's what you want."

I didn't answer. I wanted to argue, but I couldn't.

Edythe pulled away from me, gazing up into my face. Her hand came up to cradle my cheek, and she leaned up to kiss my cheek. "There," she murmured. "Nothing to worry about. Trust me, Beau, I will keep you safe. I will make sure you have a choice."

I gazed back into her determined eyes for a long moment, and something I'd wondered about for so long suddenly returned to me. I felt a shadow of unease pass across my mind, and for a moment my other anxieties drifted temporarily to the background.

"Can...Can I ask you something?" I said hesitantly.

She seemed to notice my tension, and she stroked my hand soothingly. "Anything," she murmured.

I opened my mouth—then asked something else instead. "Do you know what I'm getting Archie for graduation?"

Edythe blinked. She smiled a bit uncertainly. "They looked like rock concert tickets, I think."

"Oh yeah," I said. I'd seen an ad in the paper last week, and I knew it was a band Archie liked, and Edythe had said she liked their CD. "I was thinking the three of us could go. Hope they're not sold out."

Edythe laughed. "I think Archie would have seen if they were."

I smiled ruefully. "I guess that's true."

Again, we were quiet. I could feel Edythe's eyes on me, and at last she said quietly, "There was something else you meant to ask."

I didn't look up. However, at last I nodded once and took the plunge.

"You don't want me to be a vampire," I said finally. It came out in a rush, and my face felt hot.

Edythe studied me for a moment, probably more interested in my odd behavior than in what I had actually said. "No I don't," she agreed.

I nodded, taking a steadying breath. "Yeah. Well...for awhile now, I've been kind of wondering why that was."

Edythe stared back at me, mystified. "But I have told you, haven't I, Beau? Again and again. Being human, having a heartbeat—you have no idea the gift that is. I want to make you happy, I want to give you everything I have to give—I can't stand seeing you forced to make any sacrifice on my account."

I gazed down at her for a long minute. "And that's all? That's the only reason?"

"Yes," she said, looking confused at my expression. "What other reason could there be?"

I hesitated. Then I gathered what little courage I had and began, "Before, you were reading Frankenstein. I saw this passage, and I wasn't sure if that was the one you were reading, but..."

I paused briefly, carefully studying Edythe's face. But she still only looked perplexed.

I took another steadying breath, and went on. "When Victor Frankenstein is thinking about how he shouldn't make another monster, and how in the end the monster may end up being repulsed by another monster's hideousness—Well, when you talk about other vampires and newborns, you call them monsters. You always sound kind of...repulsed. So, I've been wondering if the real reason you don't want me to become a vampire is...because I'll be different. Because I won't smell the same, and...well, I keep wondering if you think you might be repulsed by the new me."

Edythe's mouth opened in shock. Her eyes were pained. "Oh, Beau," she whispered.

"I want you to tell me the truth," I said evenly. "Don't worry about my feelings, I just want you to tell me what you're really feeling."

Edythe gazed up into my eyes. For a moment, she looked stricken. Trapped.

My slightly hard, determined expression turned pleading. I took her cold hand and pressed it to my lips.

"Please, Edythe," I said quietly. "Just tell me the truth, whatever it is. I just want to know what you're thinking. Nothing hurts more than feeling like you don't think I could handle the truth—like you have to keep things from me, and shoulder everything yourself."

Edythe gazed up at me, her eyes haunted, and her skin stood out starkly white in the dim light.

"The truth," she repeated. I could see the conflict raging in her eyes, and for a moment her face was tense with an agony I couldn't understand. However, she closed her eyes, and seemed to come to a decision.

I was surprised as I suddenly felt both her hands against my face. For a moment she cradled my face in her hands. Then, slowly, she drew back one hand, and gently traced each feature with the very tip of her finger. My nose, my lips, my jaw. Though her hands were frigid as ice, my skin seemed to burn where she touched me, and I saw a feverish light in her eyes.

"The truth is," she whispered, "I want it. More than anything. You don't understand, how terrified I am every moment that something will happen to you. I have to make sure I am concentrating all the time to keep from killing you by accident. I'm like the monster in your book—asking for someone else to be forced to join me in my fate so that I may have my ideal companion. For myself, I would make you a monster like me, so I could keep you forever, so that you would be safe, so I would never have to lose you."

Her eyes were desperate and full of anguish as they gazed up into mine. "When I do this," she whispered, "it will be the most selfish, criminal act I have ever done."

I stared down into her eyes for a long moment. "And that's it?" I said in a low, hoarse voice.

"Yes," she said, her beautiful voice cracking slightly. "That's the truth."

I stared down at her a second longer. And then, I leaned down and pressed my lips to hers. I felt her arms around my neck, and I felt her fingers in my hair. I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her against me, feeling her cold form against my chest.

When I pulled away I was panting slightly, and I was surprised to hear Edythe's breathing coming a little faster too. I kept my arms around her, pressing her face against my shoulder, and leaning my head against hers.

"I love you," I whispered in her ear.

"I know," she murmured back. She turned her face away from mine, leaning her head against my collarbone, while her fingers caressed my shoulder. "And I think I love you. But—if I really loved you, would I do this? Wouldn't I do what was best for you?"

"If you love me, you'll let me choose for myself," I corrected her. "And not second-guess the decision once it's made." I added, "But you're always free to give me advice."

Edythe laughed softly. "Advice that will undoubtedly go unheeded." She sighed then, and pulled back a little.

I let go and sat back on the sofa, though I reached out for her hand again, and she took it automatically.

"So," I said, as casually as I could. "That passage in Frankenstein...if you weren't looking at the part about him maybe being repulsed by her...then you must have been looking at the other. About how the new monster, once she's made, might choose to leave him."

I turned my head to give Edythe a sideways look, raising an eyebrow. "So, in other words, you were thinking about the possibility that, after you change me, I'll change my mind and leave."

Edythe didn't reply, frowning out the dark window.

"Do you really think that?" I asked. "Do you really think that when I become a vampire, I might be that different? A completely different person, who doesn't keep the promises he made in a previous life? Who doesn't love you?"

Edythe smiled a little, and said lightly, "You already have acted strangely reluctant at the prospect of marrying me. I notice you still haven't told either your mother or your father, or anyone else. Perhaps you are already afraid of tying yourself down with obligations."

I shook my head. "That's something else. I'm just afraid my mom's going to kill me. Or people will think I got you pregnant or something. Just normal human social stuff. But it's okay—if it's what you want. I pretty much already consider myself bonded for life anyway, marriage is just a part of it. I'm asking you if you're afraid that, after I change, I won't be the same person—if you honestly think I might be so different there'd ever be even the slightest possibility I would even think about leaving you."

Edythe hesitated. "I...I don't know, Beau. I guess I don't know what to expect. I don't remember much about my human life. But a change that extreme can alter people in a major way—just look at Royal. Royal remembers his human self, and even though on the surface he may seem similar, deep down he's very different from what he was then. In some ways, I think the change was for the better, but he also knows he's harder, colder—there's just so much we don't know about this, Beau, besides whether we still have souls."

I gazed down at her. Then I said, "I know becoming a vampire will change me. I expect that. But if there's one core, fundamental part of me I know can't be changed, it's that I love you. I hope you know that, and you don't have to be afraid of anything."

Edythe smiled, her fingers brushing my face. "And most of me believes that, too. I'm sorry if I've in any way alarmed you with my idle fears. You just have to understand that I love you so much—sometimes it makes me a little paranoid."

I smiled a little ruefully. "We're both kind of paranoid, aren't we?"

Edythe laughed softly. "As paranoid as a pair of criminals."

Smiling, I draped an arm over her shoulders and leaned back against the couch.

I could feel a deep relief spreading through me, more than I would have expected. I hadn't realized until I'd actually put the question into words just how much I'd been worrying about that, and I was also glad to be able to put some of Edythe's anxieties to rest, too. It was funny—in my mind, the two of us were about as close as two people could be, but still sometimes it was hard to come out and just talk honestly. I wondered if I would ever be completely free of that lurking fear of eventual rejection.

But, happy and reassured for the moment, I turned my head to beam down at her.

"You can say that again," I said, and to my surprise, my tone was nearly as bright as Archie's going on about the graduation party. "But, that makes me wonder—what will our next crime be?"

* * *

I woke up the next morning to realize I was one day closer to graduation. I was a bit stressed over finals, in spite of he fact very soon they wouldn't matter. I still felt the compulsion to study, though I doubted I would get through half of what I needed to get done.

When I went down for breakfast, I found Charlie had already left for work. He'd left the paper on the table, and I remembered I needed to find that ad for the concert tickets if I was going to get them like Archie expected me to.

I sighed. Psychic powers definitely took all the fun out of gifts.

However, as I hooked my finger under the edge of the paper, meaning to flip it back to the entertainment section, my eyes caught the bold headlines, and I felt a chill.

 _ **SEATTLE TERROIZED BY SLAYINGS**_

I scanned the contents, and felt myself grow more tense with every word. They were considering the possibility of a serial killer now, in spite of the broad range of ages and ethnicities of the victims, because of the similarities in the manner of death, and the universal lack of evidence in each case. The article brought up Gary Ridgeway, or the Green River killer, who had been convicted of the murder of forty-eight women, and been in active in Seattle for part of his reign of terror. But with the escalating violence of this killer—six murders in the first month, eleven in the second, and twenty-two in the last ten days—not to mention bizarre and sometimes even seemingly impossible murders, people disappearing from homes, fourth-story apartments, and in one case, even a movie theater, the body discovered burning in a dumpster twenty miles away, the city seemed even more baffled and panic-stricken than it had been back then.

The article concluded,

 _The evidence is conflicting, the pieces horrifying. A vicious new gang or a wildly active serial killer? Or something else the police haven't yet conceived of?_

 _Only one conclusion is indisputable: something hideous is stalking Seattle._

I slowly sank down into the chair Charlie usually sat in, and I realized I was shaking.

"Beau?"

I turned my eyes to Edythe. She immediately saw how pale I was, my eyes wide with panic, and she was at my side in an instant.

"What's wrong?" she whispered. "Are you all right?"

I gripped the paper tightly. "Have you seen this?" I asked quietly.

Edythe frowned. "No. Not today's news. But we know it's getting very bad—we are going to have to act, and soon."

I was quiet. I didn't like the thought of Edythe and the others going down to fight the vampire or vampires responsible for all this carnage. It would certainly be dangerous for all of them.

"Has Archie seen anything?" I asked.

Edythe sighed. "No, nothing. In fact, he's been unusually frustrated with himself. I've never seen him lose confidence in himself and his powers this way before."

"What's wrong, do you think?" I asked. "Why wouldn't he be able to see this, when he usually can see everything else?"

"I don't know," Edythe answered. "But I'm beginning to think the problem is us—we're relying on Archie's powers too much. We've been waiting for Archie to see something so we can go and know what to expect. But Archie can't see us there until we actually decide to ct—our only option may be to do this entirely blind."

I shivered at the thought. "I hope it doesn't come to that."

"People will keep dying if we don't act soon," she said simply.

I didn't have any reply to that, so I didn't answer.

Edythe's eyes scanned the paper briefly, narrowing ever so slightly, then she looked at me.

"In spite of the fact I know very well that Charlie may like me even less to know I am in anyway promoting delinquency," she began. "Would you be terribly upset if you skipped school today? There won't be any new material anyway, it's all review for finals in a couple of days."

I thought about all the studying I really ought to be doing, then shrugged. "Truancy. Cool. I'm in. What are we doing?"

"I think it would be a good idea to talk to Jessamine," Edythe said.

I nodded, remembering the cryptic comment Edythe had made about Jessamine being an expert on newborns. I wondered what that meant. What did Jessamine know that Edythe and Archie didn't?

It was strange, in the relatively tight-knit Cullen family, Jessamine always came across as the quiet one, a little removed from the others. I knew she had come from the south before Archie had seen her in a vision and sought her out, and she was the newest member of the Cullen family, but other than that, Edythe had avoided telling me much about Jessamine's past.

When we arrived at the house, we found Carine, Earnest, and Jessamine sitting in front of the television, eyes trained on the news, and I realized it was a story covering the incidents in Seattle. Archie was sitting at the bottom of the grand staircase. He wasn't his usual cheerful self, and instead his forehead was creased and his mouth tight. He looked restless, on edge.

Just as we came in, Eleanor strolled in from the kitchen, looking almost criminally relaxed. Eleanor was a carefree spirit if there ever was one, and never seemed affected by any tension in the atmosphere.

"Yo, Edythe," she called. "Hey, Beau. Ditching?"

I shrugged, trying to be nonchalant. "Sure. No big deal."

She laughed, and lightly poked me in the shoulder—lightly for her, though I had a feeling I would have a bruise in the morning. "Yeah, go ahead, try to be cool. But you know you'll always be a straight A, goody-goody to me."

Edythe folded her arms. "In case you failed to notice, Eleanor, we are facing a growing crisis at the moment."

"Right," said Eleanor, grinning, cracking her knuckles. "Bring it on."

Exasperated, Edythe turned away and continued on into the room. She had brought along Charlie's paper, and she now tossed it to Carine.

"Did you see they're considering a serial killer now?" she asked.

"Yes, we know," Carine said with a sigh, catching the paper deftly though her eyes never moved from the screen. "They've been debating the possibility all morning on CNN..."

"We'll have to do something soon," Edythe said quietly.

"Let's go now," Eleanor put in, sauntering up behind the couch and punching a fist into her hand. "It's dead boring around here."

An ominous growl echoed from upstairs, and I turned to see Royal at the top of the staircase. He descended slowly, eyes on Eleanor.

"We'll have to go sometime," Edythe agreed, making no sign she had noticed Royal's arrival. Her voice was even.

Carine sighed very deeply and looked troubled. "Under normal circumstances, Sulpicia would not appreciate our interference. She does not like vigilantes—she and the rest of the Volturi have the most experience taking care of this kind of situation quietly and efficiently. And yet...if she is too preoccupied to act...this is getting dangerously out of control. Not to mention the humans who are dying."

"I wouldn't want any of Sulpicia's dogs coming here anyway," Edythe said harshly. "It would be better if we take care of it—if Sulpicia does send someone, I'm sure she would also think to order them to come here after they were done to check on Beau. This close to graduation, she may even order them to stay to ensure he's changed exactly when she specified—and for obvious reasons, the last thing we want is Volturi guards hanging around, feeling the need to hunt to keep themselves occupied."

Carine shook her head. "Yes...only, not knowing he precise nature of the situation we might be walking into...it could be dangerous."

Edythe suddenly froze where she was and she turned, not to Carine, but to Jessamine, sitting quietly on the end of the couch.

"You know what," Edythe said, sounding stunned, "I bet that is it. I bet that's exactly it. That would change everything."

Jessamine and Edythe were apparently having some kind of silent exchange and I could see the annoyance on just about everyone's faces.

"Mind sharing with the class?" Eleanor said impatiently.

Edythe looked to Jessamine. "You'd better be the one to explain. This is your area of expertise."

Edythe pulled away from me and began to pace, and I could tell she was deep in thought. When I looked to my other side, I saw Archie had appeared to stand beside Jessamine.

"What's she talking about?" he said to Jessamine. "What'd you think of?"

Jessamine didn't look all that happy to suddenly find herself the central focus in the room. A circle had formed around her, waiting to hear what she would say, and she hesitated, looking briefly from face to face. At last her ocher eyes settled on me.

"You're confused," she said softly. Her gentle voice was always low, with just a hint of a rasp. Of course it wasn't a question—Jessamine always knew what I was feeling, as she knew what everyone was feeling.

"He can join the club then," Eleanor grumbled. "Are you going to tell us this grand epiphany, or are you going to keep us sitting here all day?"

Jessamine smiled a little, and her eyes didn't move from me as she answered, "Patience...For Beau to understand, I need to explain a few other things first. And he should understand—he's one of the us now, after all."

I blinked, startled. I hadn't had a lot to do with Jessamine, especially the last few months following my birthday when she'd lost control and tried to kill me. So I hadn't known she thought of me in those terms—I was glad to know it.

"Beau," Jessamine began, "just how much do you know about me?"

Eleanor sighed with obvious impatience, and threw herself down on the couch, the picture of boredom.

I shrugged. "Not a whole lot, now that you mention it."

Jessamine nodded slowly. Then she reached over, putting a hand on a nearby lampshade. She tilted the shade back, so the bright light fell across her face and neck. She reached up and touched a finger to her neck, just below the jawline. She traced the finger back in a half-circle motion.

I realized there was something I was supposed to be seeing, and I leaned in close, squinting at the spot she was pointing. I concentrated hard, until I saw...

"Oh," I breathed, startled. I instinctively I raised my right hand to look down at my finger. On it was a white crescent scar—the one Joss had given me in that ballet studio what seemed so long ago. I looked back up at Jessamine, and I saw on her neck where she was pointing a white scar on her pale skin, the same distinctive crescent shape. The skin was uneven, bumpy, but it was barely visible even in the bright light.

"That's just like mine," I said.

Jessamine smiled faintly. Then her finger moved from the scar to another spot on her neck, tracing the same crescent pattern. I squinted and saw another scar there, too. Then her hand moved again, and again...

My eyes followed the movement, and before long I began to see the subtle texture on her neck, her jawline, the side of her face. White crescents crossed over white crescents, so many it was hard to tell where one ended and another began.

Jessamine reached down and began to slowly roll back the sleeve of her pale ivory sweater. As she drew it back, I saw it was even worse than her neck—white on white, covered in feathery half-moons from wrist to elbow, only visible thrown into relief by the bright lamplight.

For a moment I could only stare, disbelieving. Then I sucked in a sharp breath.

"Jessamine," I began in a hoarse voice. "What—What happened to you?"

* * *

A/N: A few differences this chapter, though I guess mostly the same in essentials.

Well, next chapter is the last of the three chapters I considered the most difficult in making the transition over to a reimagined version. (And the hardest of those three.) Wish me luck! :J

Thanks for reading! If you have a moment, let me know what you think, and see you next time! C:

Posted 5/23/17


	13. Newborn

A/N: Back again. C: A little late this time, but I had some other things going on the last couple weeks, plus this was one I just kept procrastinating. x3

Thank you so much for all your thoughts! Hope you enjoy, and see you at the end! C:

* * *

Chapter 12: Newborn

"Jessamine... What—What happened to you?"

Jessamine raised her eyes to mine, her expression unreadable. "The same thing that happened to your hand," she answered softly. "Repeated a thousand times. Our venom is the only thing that leaves a scar."

I tried not to stare at the subtly ravaged skin on her neck and arm. But I couldn't seem to keep my eyes away as I fought not to think of the unimaginable brutality.

"Not all of us had the gentle upbringing of some of my siblings here," she said, her voice quiet, oddly detached. "You must understand...there are places in _our_ world where the life of a newborn is measured in weeks, not centuries. Places where the instincts of our kind need have little restraint, and civility of any kind is unheard of. Places where—our kind is perpetually at war."

I was staring at her with rapt attention, waiting for her to continue. However, clearly the others had heard this story before. Carine and Eleanor turned their eyes back to the television, while Archie wandered off. Only Edythe remained attentive, though I could feel her eyes were not on Jessamine, but me, studying my reaction.

Jessamine's unblinking eyes never moving from mine, she began.

"Our kind has always fought, and that has been primarily for one thing: control of the most plentiful food sources. As your ancestors may have once fought for control of the best waters with the most fish or lands with the most game to hunt, our kind fights so they may have access to the most readily available prey. So they may hunt with less restraint and still go unnoticed."

I felt a shiver down my spine at the way Jessamine said it. _Prey. Food sources._ However, she wasn't worried about scaring the crap out of me or making me feel queasy, as Edythe would have been. She wasn't about to tone it down or gloss over the darker details.

"The south is a battleground," she said. "It has been for centuries. Violence is widespread—the covens there would not care to remain inconspicuous if not for the threat of Sulpicia and the Volturi. More than one coven who has gone too far has been utterly annihilated, and the others are aware the same could easily happen to them. They know when the Volturi intervenes, it is a massacre. Here in the north vampires tend to be, relatively speaking, civilized. They are nomads who wander from place to place, and even allow humans to interact with them unsuspectingly. However, in the south, vampires come out only at night, and humans are seen as no more than herds of cattle."

Slightly pale, I nodded slowly, absorbing that.

Jessamine continued, "At some point, someone realized that if he were the only vampire hunting in a particularly area, he could feed far more often without danger of attracting too much notice. So before long, they were all plotting to rid themselves of the competition. It is now a neverending game—moves and counter moves, a constant race to come up with new effective tactics and perfect them, then use them to maintain control of your land, or acquire new territory. Some came up with more effective tactics than others.

"However, the one tactic that stood out from all the rest, that drastically changed the way our wars were fought in the south, was invented by a fairly young vampire by the name of Belita. Her name first began to garner notice when rumors spread that she had massacred two covens that had been sharing the land near Houston. But it was only when she slaughtered a large, more powerful clan of allies who had held Monterrey in northern Mexico for half a decade that the others began to realize her strategy, whatever it was, was different from the others."

I shook my head, trying to fight chills going up and down my spine. "How?" I said quietly. "How did she do it?"

Jessamine's face held no emotion, and the lightly raised white scars on her neck and arms seemed unusually pronounced in the bright lamplight.

"She created an army of newborn vampires."

I sat there, digesting that. Before I could wrap my head around the potential for destruction, Jessamine continued.

"Newborns are very powerful. And even inexperienced, put ten or fifteen together, they can wipe out even the cleverest, most powerful covens by sheer numbers alone. However—they are also volatile, almost impossible to control, and slaves to their instincts. Though one alone may be reasoned with and taught to restrain himself, all together they were wild, unskilled and undisciplined. Many were always taken out in each conflict before victory was achieved, as they were nearly always predictable in a fight, and very often so out of control they would tear one another to pieces as soon as they would an enemy. Belita constantly had to continue to replenish the ranks she lost, with more new, volatile vampires, and so the chaos only increased.

"The other vampires in the south realized Belita would wipe them all out one by one if they did not act. The only way they saw to fight such a power was to turn Belita's own idea against her. And they soon created armies of their own."

Jessamine's hard features were grim. "All hell broke loose. The battles raged with increasing ferocity, the air choked with the purple smoke of destroyed immortals, the bodies of humans used to slake the newborns' unquenchable thirst stacked high—so many deaths that human historians took note, and later attributed the severe population slump to disease.

"When word reached the Volturi, Sulpicia intervened. She brought together the entire Volturi guard, and ordered that every newborn in the south and any vampire found in the company of a newborn be executed on sight.

"After first taking care of Belita, the Volturi spent nearly a year there, annihilating one coven after another. There are few witnesses left to the terror and brutality of that time. I spoke to someone once who had, from a distance, seen what had happened when the Volturi went to Culiacán..."

Throughout her story, Jessamine's face had mentioned impassive. But at this, I saw her give the barest shiver.

She continued, "But whatever the Volturi's methods, they were effective. Mexico was emptied of vampires for a time, and Belita's fever for conquest and reckless use of newborns did not spread from the south. The world remained at peace—thanks to the Volturi.

"However, when the Volturi at last returned to Europe, the few survivors quickly staked claims. Bad blood and resentment was widespread, and before long the covens were disputing again. The idea of using newborn armies was already established, and so many found themselves falling back on the familiar strategy. However, this time the southern covens were more careful—they selected from the human pool with more care, and were given more training. The humans took no notice, and Sulpicia did not send anyone again. And so the fighting resumed."

Jessamine paused there, and she stared thoughtfully off into space.

As I looked at her face, still composed, but with a touch of something in her eyes, I realized.

"That was when you were changed."

Jessamine's eyes flickered back to me. For the first time, the corners of her mouth turned up in the faintest hint of a smile, though there was no humor in it.

"Yes," she said softly.

Her eyes wandered away from mine then, and her gaze was far away. "It was the 1860s, and the Civil War had begun. We lived in Houston, Texas, and I was nearly seventeen years old when I watched my father and older brother join the Confederate Army.

"My brother was everything to me. He had always looked out for me from the time I was small, been the one I looked up to more than anyone in the world. I wanted to go with him, but he told me that some needed to remain behind as support. He did not expect the fight to be long, but he told me the army needed someone here, to take care of their land, keep the army supplied, and encourage more soldiers to enlist. However, worried that, with all the men gone, some ne'er-do-wells would take advantage of their absence, he did leave me a pistol, to keep concealed in a hidden pocket in my dress, so I could protect myself and my mother if we ever needed it.

"I took my brother's charge to heart. I had always found I had a gift for persuasion—in every public place I could find, I spoke strongly in support of our army, encouraging every able-bodied man to join the cause, knowing that the larger our army, the sooner the fighting would be over, and the sooner our men would come home. Blindly I repeated all the values we had grown up with. And, though it was really only loyalty to my brother and father that I truly knew, they listened to me."

Jessamine closed her eyes. "The war dragged on. We received word that Father had been killed in battle, and the tone of my brother's letters, which had at first been complacent, certain victory would come soon, turned increasingly hopeless. His reminders to keep the pistol with me at all times no longer had to do with the occasional lawless vagabond; instead he warned me of the Union armies, and what was done to the women of the towns that were captured. Because there were few men left to be convinced to enlist, I turned to helping galvanize the women—we helped supply the army with food, clothing, and horses, and we set up makeshift hospitals to treat the wounded. My brother wrote to me to say that the Union Army was going to the aid of the port town of Galveston, and his regiment would be evacuating its citizens—and they would be bringing the refugees to Houston. He would come and see Mother and I soon, after nearly three years since he had left.

"We waited. And waited, and waited—but though those who had escaped Galveston arrived, as did many of the soldiers of the Confederate Army who had helped in the effort, my brother was not among them. Mother, whose health had already deteriorated greatly after learning of the death of my father, was convinced he was dead, and in her despair fell ill. She passed within the week."

Jessamine's voice held little emotion as she spoke—as though she were reciting a passage from a history textbook. I remembered what Edythe had once said, about how her human memories were hazy, and I wondered if, for Jessamine, these things were all like memories from someone else's life, or if, just like she was able to affect the emotional atmosphere around her, she was somehow able to manipulate her own emotions, to make it less painful.

Jessamine continued evenly, "Having lost the only thing that had really been tying me to that place, I made up my mind. Perhaps my brother was indeed already dead, but I would not rest until I found out for certain. It may be that he was merely injured and could not get to us, or he had been captured.

"And so, the next morning after my mother's passing, I made up for myself a pack of rations and prepared a horse. Then, dressing in some of my brother's traveling clothes for my protection—a woman traveling alone was liable to draw attention—I set out.

"It was there, on my way toward Galveston to find my brother, that I met them."

Jessamine paused. Something in her eyes seemed to harden, and I felt myself tense.

"I had stopped beside a small stream to rest for the night, and to let the horse feed and drink. He was old, and could not be pushed very hard—all the fittest horses had been taken for the fighting. There I sat down beside a tree to try to sleep a few hours—and try not to let my growing despair overtake me.

"I didn't hear them approach. Not so much as the rustle of grass, or the tramp of a hoofbeat. I closed my eyes for what felt like barely a moment—and when I opened them again, there they were.

"Three men stood not a few feet away, beside the stream, watching me. I was immediately struck by how beautiful they were—If I had ever pictured Michael the Archangel, then surely one of these would have been who I imagined. As I looked closer, I saw they were not men after all, but boys. They seemed oddly young to be traveling alone, no older than I, and one with dark hair and almost Mexican features, though his skin was pale as the other two, was no more than a child.

"It was the tallest of the three, a man with fair hair like golden straw, who was the first to speak.

"'It seems fortune is with us. This one's alone. We can have her without anyone interfering.'

"He eyed me with hunger, and the look sent chills down my spine. I had thought at first that these might be refugees, stragglers who had not made it fully away from Galveston—but now instead I thought of the lawless wanderers my brother had spoken of. I climbed slowly to my feet, and my hand went to the pistol concealed in my traveling cloak.

"'But she's just one,' said the other tall one. His hair was even lighter than the other, almost white. 'How will we decide who should get her?'

"The boy, who I thought could have been no more than twelve or thirteen, had been watching me silently. And though I could not imagine how he could possibly present the same kind of danger to me as the other two, somehow, the look in his eyes frightened me the most of all.

"'No, Nest,' he murmured, and his child's voice was smooth as satin. 'I think I want to try to keep this one.'

"The young man—Nest—scoffed in return. 'A young girl? I thought you said you wanted to take officers, Miguel. We should select our candidates carefully, you said.'

"'I have a feeling about this one,' said the boy softly, and he eyed me with a greed that surpassed that of the other two.

"The others appeared disappointed, but to my surprise, both stepped back obediently—as though the boy were the one in charge.

"'You do it then,' said Nest. 'You know I kill them as often as I keep them.'

"The boy smiled softly, and took a step toward me. I looked back into his face—of the three, he ought to have seemed the least threatening.

He was by far the most beautiful of the three, his face almost angelic. But beneath the surface I saw a vile, sinister intent. I remembered that Lucifer had once been an angel, more beautiful than the rest—and I wondered if I might not be looking into the eyes of the devil himself now.

"At last, I drew my pistol. I don't remember now what all I said—I threatened them to stay back or I would shoot, told them that the Confederate Army knew where I was, that my brother was a high-ranking officer, and the three of them would be executed on sight if they so much as touched me. I used every bit of power of persuasion I possessed—but the boy only laughed, and kept right on coming."

Jessamine paused once again, her even expression almost thoughtful. "I...sometimes have wondered," she murmured, almost to herself. "If that moment, in some way, helped prepare me for what was to come—that my very last act as a human was an act of violence.

"I waited until the boy was close enough I couldn't possibly miss, and then I fired, straight into his heart. I was close enough I saw the shot hit him, right where I had aimed. But of course, he did not react. His smile only widened, and the next moment he was in front of me.

"In the relative quiet after the explosion, he said to me softly, 'What is your name, girl?'

"Knowing I was about to die, or something worse than death for a young woman of my time, I answered, almost defiantly, 'Jessamine Whitlock.'

"The boy signaled to the others, and without a word, the two men retreated from me, turning and leaving, racing like the wind over the countryside until they were out of sight.

"'Well, Jessamine,' said the boy, 'my name is Miguel, and I am about to free you from that pitiful human body—if you are lucky enough to survive. I hope you are. We could use someone with your spirit. And I find something...unspeakably compelling about you.'

"Then he reached up and touched me, his skin cold as ice. And though he appeared too young for such things, he inclined his head as though to kiss me—"

Jessamine paused. Again, her eyes were far away. When she began again, I was relieved when she said, "...A few days later, I was introduced to my new life. My new world.

"Their names were Miguel, Nestor, and Lyle. They hadn't been together all that long, Miguel had simply brought the other two together as a matter of convenience. They were all survivors of recently lost battles, and Miguel sought vengeance on those who had beaten him, and he wished to reclaim his hunting territories. He was intent on building an army, but he was going about it very carefully—selecting specific humans who had potential. Mostly ranked military officers with combat experience in their human lives. I was the one exception.

"However, Miguel trained me to fight just as he did the others—it was an alien world compared to the one I had left, where the mere thought of a woman fighting was a disgrace. There were six other newcomers when I joined, and Miguel created four more within a fortnight. He put far more effort into training us than any of the others did, making certain we knew how to remain invisible to the humans. When we did well, we were rewarded."

Jessamine paused again, and didn't go into details.

"Nestor and Lyle didn't expect much of me. Because I was the smallest and a female, at first I was a target to the other newborns—there was no such thing as gentlemen chivalry here. Perhaps it was simply out of desperation, or perhaps I'd simply had an aptitude for it all along—but I soon discovered that fighting was something that seemed to come naturally to me. Every time one of them came at me, I destroyed him without mercy. Miguel was a little vexed, as he was forced to replace many of his newborns on my account, but he was pleased with my unexpected skill. He rewarded me far more often than the others, and I grew stronger.

"It wasn't long before he set me as his second in command. I had always been a leader of sorts in my former life, able to influence others, and I also discovered I seemed to have a mysterious power to manipulate the emotional atmosphere around me, though at that time I had not yet put a clearly defined name to it. I was able to use that power to keep the normally volatile newborns relatively calm and under control. The in-fighting dropped almost immediately, and our numbers swelled to around twenty—an unimaginably high number, with the hovering threat of the Volturi destroying anyone whose activities grew too conspicuous. Even Miguel, Nestor, and Lyle, who had not always gotten along particularly well, seemed to work together more easily.

"I followed every one of Miguel's orders without question, just as I had blindly followed the values taught to me in my human life. He was my entire world—if I could have looked back on the life I only vaguely remembered, to some of the words my brother had once spoken to me as he tried to explain to me the feelings of loyalty for his country and fellow soldiers that made him willing to die for them, I now would have understood his feelings exactly. I lived to carry out Miguel's commands. This life of perpetual war was all I knew, and I never imagined any other way of life could exist.

"I drilled the others relentlessly, punished them or even destroyed them when they stepped out of line. Miguel began to rely on me more and more, until before long he was leaving the training of all the newborns to me. I was often left in charge. I eventually was able to pull together an army of twenty-three—tremendously strong newborn vampires, organized and skilled as none who had come before. Miguel could not have been more thrilled.

"We moved swiftly and silently down to Monterrey, Miguel's former territory. There, there were two older vampires, and they had nine newborns, all fresh and green. We crushed them, losing only four of our own—an unheard of margin of victory. And more importantly, we did it quietly, secretly, so the humans never even noticed.

"But Miguel's ambitions were broader than just one city. Before long, he began setting his sights on other territories, other challenges. That year, he extended his control to cover most of Texas and northern Mexico. But it couldn't last—before long, others came from the South to depose him."

Jessamine once again raised a hand to lightly brush the faint scars on her neck.

"The fighting was...unbelievably intense. Brutal. Many feared we would bring the Volturi back down on us. Of the original twenty-three newborns, I alone survived the first eighteen months. Though we had many victories, we suffered many defeats as well. Eventually Nestor and Lyle turned on Miguel—but I felt the moment their loyalties shifted, and he and I annihilated them with absurd ease.

"Miguel and I continued to hold Monterrey. Things quieted down, though the battles never fully ceased. The appeal of universal conquest had dimmed somewhat for most, and now the fights were mainly about settling old scores. Many vampires had lost their partners in the fighting, and now sought vengeance, as that is the one thing our kind does not forgive...

"Miguel and I always kept a dozen or so newborns ready. They were no more than disposable pawns, to be used strategically, then discarded when they became a threat or outlived their usefulness. My life was an endless cycle of violence. On the outside I showed no sign of weakness, but little by little I began to grow sickened by what I saw, day in, day out. But it never occurred to me that there may be another way of life, and I never thought of leaving.

"For decades Miguel and I fought the others, holding our territories, building our armies of newborns, then purging when they weakened beyond use, then building again. Though I had known little of the ways of war from my human life, being partner to Miguel taught me much. Miguel was by far the most gifted strategist in all the warring covens of the South, and he explained to me his methods that brought him victory until I knew them and could employ them as well as he.

"Time passed, and Miguel became less choosy about the newborns he selected—he chose female as well as male, considering how well I had turned out, and because he knew I could train just about anyone to be a superb fighter. One of the newborns, a girl who had, against all the odds, survived and remained useful through her first three years, piqued my interest, and we became something very much like friends.

"Patricia was her name, and she was different from the others. In spite of the fact that she was a very good, very clever fighter, she didn't seem to enjoy it. She was calm, unfailingly good-natured even toward the newest of the vampires, who were usually targets, tormented and bullied relentlessly by the others until more new vampires came along to replace them. I realized I respected that a great deal. In this world of constant violence and tenuous bonds, she was like a breath of fresh air.

"I assigned her the job of dealing with the newborns—you might say she was a glorified babysitter. It took all her time and energy, but she performed the task well, with more patience than any of the others. I think the lives of the newborns were less hellish under her care.

"Then the time came for another purge—the newborns' strength was waning, and it was time to replace them. Patricia was assigned to help me dispose of them—we always took them aside, one by one...always, purging nights were very long. This time, Patricia spoke to me, tried to convince me that a few of them had potential, and we ought to keep them longer. She pleaded with me. However, my orders from Miguel were clear, and I told her we would not spare any of them.

"I could feel as the work took its toll on Patricia. I thought perhaps I ought to send her away—I had done this many times before, and I didn't really need her help. However, as I called the name of the next newborn, I felt her emotions suddenly alter—she was furious, combative, and I waited for her to attack. I was not afraid of her—good a fighter as she was, she was no match for me.

"The newborn I had called arrived—Charles was just past his year mark, and the moment Patricia saw him, I knew. No feeling was every invisible to me. She shouted at him to run, and she took off after him. I tensed myself to pursue—I knew I could easily catch them both and destroy them—but something held me in place. I'd destroyed many, but destroying Patricia...it was an unpleasant thought.

"Miguel was irritated with me later, but he let it go—and strangely, I didn't regret my failure to act.

"I grew increasingly despondent. I continued to carry out the methods we had developed, the endless violence, but I was sickened by it. Miguel began to notice the change—and his pleasure with me and affection toward me began to to turn to suspicion and fear. I sometimes sensed the malice in his emotions, the same emotions that had given me advance warning before Nestor and Lyle had turned on us. I knew I would have to destroy him soon—my only ally—or be destroyed myself. And so I mentally prepared myself, waited for the right moment...

"It was at that time Patricia returned, almost five years after her escape. She met with me in secret, and she told me about the North—how neither she nor Charles had fought even once since they had gone, though they had met other vampires. They all co-existed without fear, without violence. To my weary, blood-soaked mind, it sounded like paradise—I had never thought there might be anything else than this life I lived, and now that I knew, I was eager for a change.

"And so, that very night, I fled with Patricia, leaving Miguel to continue to fight his battles and wage the wars he lived for. Once I was gone, I realized I did not miss him. Though I was relieved I hadn't been forced to kill him after all, and we had been together for so many years, we had both lived for the fight, for the blood, and our bond was not strong enough to hold us together. The strong loyalty I had felt in the beginning had deteriorated to nothing.

"I traveled with Patricia and Charles for a time. At first, I was almost happy—glad to be living in this new, peaceful world. But soon my depression returned, as strong as it had been before. I realized that, for a long time, something had been eating at me. Consuming me from the inside out. But I hadn't noticed it amidst the constant struggle for survival and violence.

"You know I have the power to control and manipulate emotions—but I can also sense the emotions of those around me, and I wonder if you realize how that affects _me_. I had lived in a world of neverending slaughter and carnage—as often the cause of it myself as the witness. For the first century of my life, I was constantly immersed in hatred and vengeance. But even in the midst of that, I realized something. Every time I took a human victim to sate my thirst, a faint prick of remembrance from my other life—the faded life, the life did not really feel like my own—would come back to me. The human girl who idolized her brother. The fear she had felt seeing the monsters that would alter her life forever.

"I think that's why the memories of how that human girl felt never fully left me. Because every time I hunted, every time I killed a newborn or another vampire, I could _feel_ everything my prey was feeling. As a human died by my hands, I lived their emotions again. The horror, the fear. Every single time.

"And so, I left Patricia and Charles. I was growing increasingly averse to our most basic act of survival—hunting humans. But they did not feel the same way I did, they merely wished for peace from the endless fighting of our kind. I was weary—weary of killing, weary of living.

"But though I began to try to resist, consuming the blood of humans less and less often, still I could not keep myself from it for long. I had spent a century drinking human blood as I would, and the control I desired did not come easily. I held myself back, only to give in, and give in, and give in..."

Jessamine's eyes were unfocused, her mind decades away. Her stoic expression had turned dead...hopeless. But then, to my surprise, she suddenly smiled gently, like the sun breaking between the clouds on a stormy day.

"After endless wandering, not sure where I was going, or if there was anywhere to go, I ended up in Philadelphia. That day the sky was overcast and dark with a coming storm, so I had opted to be out during the day, even though my decades of nothing but night activity still left me feeling a bit nervous.

"When it began to rain, I knew staying outdoors in such weather would attract attention, so I ducked into a small diner, with only a few patrons. My eyes wouldn't attract attention—they were dark with thirst, as they often were, as I'd been pushing myself between meals longer and longer. I was continually testing my self control, though in truth, I still did not fully trust myself.

"Because of the rain, I had not smelled him from the outside, but as soon as I entered, I realized there was one of our kind there. He was sitting at the bar counter, arms folded, relaxed.

"Normally, I would not have felt any reason to be wary. Unlike the South, vampires of the North generally made an effort to get along. However, the moment I came through the door, the other vampire stood, and he looked right at me, as though he had been expecting me. When he approached, I tensed, instinctively ready for a fight—

"But he only smiled, and I thought to myself I didn't think I'd ever seen an expression so pure, so radiant. And his emotions I felt—I could not make sense of them. They were so foreign, unlike anything I had ever felt, and I could feel that they were directed toward me.

"'Hey,' he said. 'You southern belles really like to keep a guy waiting.' Then he laughed, and it was a clear, pure sound. 'But that's okay. It was worth the wait.' Then he stretched out his hand for me to take.

"There were many questions I probably should have asked. Who was he? Why was he waiting for me there? What did he want? But, I didn't ask him a single thing. I felt his emotions, and after a century of violence and betrayal I immediately trusted him. And so I took his hand, and followed him, and I never once looked back."

I blinked, and noticed Archie was there, and he reached out and took Jessamine's hand. His ocher eyes were warm and liquid as honey.

"You know, there was a bit there you really had me freaked out," he commented. "I didn't know if you were _ever_ going to show up—but, maybe I was just a bit impatient."

Jessamine turned, and smiled up at him, and I noticed a few of the faint white scars along her jaw and the side of her face stretch. Her eyes were warm and gentle as his.

"Then," Jessamine continued, "he told me what he had seen in his visions. About Carine, and her coven of vampires who did not hunt humans. So we left to find them."

The corner of her lip twitched in amusement. "I think we might have scared them a little."

"A little," scoffed Eleanor. "You two totally freaked them all out. Course, Edythe and I were away hunting and missed all the fun—but this freaky, scarred-up quiet girl and a little shrimp who starts giving everybody bro-hugs and calls everybody by name shows up out of nowhere, all ready to move right in."

Archie sighed contentedly at the memory. "Good times."

"Yes," Edythe put in. "And as I seem to recall, I came back to find my room had been taken over by fifties rock paraphernalia, and all my things dumped unceremoniously in the garage."

Archie shrugged. "Your room had the best view. I knew, being the kind, generous person you are, you would want me to have it."

Edythe nodded. "Actually, the way I remember it, I wanted to kill you. I might have, if Jessamine hadn't known what I was feeling and followed you around like a bodyguard. That annoying habit of finishing sentences alone almost sent me over the edge."

Archie flashed a grin. "Come on. Everyone knows I'm your favorite brother."

Edythe smiled a little. "When I realized there was no getting rid of you, you did eventually grow on me. After a few decades."

Everyone laughed. However, the light moment of fond memories couldn't last, and Archie's smile turned to a frown, his expression serious. He ran a hand through his hair, sighing deeply.

"An army," he muttered. "Wow. You should have mentioned something about this earlier."

Jessamine shook her head. "I believed I must be mistaken. When an army is created, there is always a reason for it. But there is no history in Seattle, no vendetta, and it is not particularly desirable as a feeding ground. The occasional nomad passes through, but there would be nothing to gain from an army. And yet..."

Jessamine's eyes were hard and certain. "I recognize the signs, and there can be no other explanation. Someone has created a newborn army in Seattle. I would judge fewer than twenty, but certainly no less than ten. But the most dangerous part is that they are clearly completely untrained. Whoever created them simply unleashed them on the city. Normally Sulpicia would have taken action long before now—but that doesn't seem to be a possibility right now, if what Archie said about Sulpicia's distraction is correct."

Carine spoke quietly, bleakly. "What do you suggest?"

Jessamine's expression was set in stone. "We will have to destroy them. If this is allowed to go on, it risks exposure for all of us."

"Jessamine is right," Edythe said quietly. "And here's something to consider—this may not technically be our responsibility, and Sulpicia may not like vigilantes, but if we leave this until too long and it gets too far out of control—when Sulpicia takes care of whatever it is and she _does_ send someone, the cleaning up is going to be a lot more extreme. I wouldn't put it past Sulpicia to induce a natural disaster or something else equally destructive to cover up the truth. We have to take care of this now before it has a chance to really spiral out of control."

"An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure," Carine murmured.

I stared at Edythe, wondering if she really believed that about Sulpicia. If that could really happen.

"Yes," Jessamine said quietly. "That is something to think about. I agree...if this goes on, that may very well be the outcome." She breathed deeply. "I can teach you how to fight them. It won't be easy in the city—clearly the young ones aren't concerned with secrecy, so we will be limited in ways they are not. But, perhaps if we can lure them out..."

She trailed off, and they were all silent for a moment, considering.

Edythe was staring at the far wall, her brow furrowed in concentration. However, her eyes suddenly widened. She had gone rigid where she stood.

The others noticed immediately, and gazes turned slowly to her.

"Edythe?" Carine said quietly.

Edythe gripped the back of the couch. "Jessamine," she said in a low, urgent voice. "Has it occurred to you...The only reason for creating a newborn army is to defeat another newborn army, or to defeat a larger, more powerful coven. And the only large coven anywhere _near_ here is..."

Jessamine stared back at her, her expression was impossible to read. "Are you saying..." she said slowly.

Edythe's voice was barely above a whisper. "Yes. I think the target has to be us."

"That can't be," Earnest put in. "Surely there are other possibilities... Tanvir's family is not so far away..."

"We're a large coven of strong fighters," Edythe said. "We claim the lands here. We're the only target anywhere near here that makes sense."

Jessamine's brow furrowed slightly. "This spot affords no particular strategic advantage. It's certainly not a good hunting ground by any means. And ours is not an aggressive coven, so I can't see anyone feeling threatened by us."

"Hold on," said Archie. "They can't be coming after us, because I would have seen that." He paused. "Unless..." He frowned, thinking. "Maybe they just don't _know_ they are. Not yet anyway." Archie closed his fist and rapped it against the side of his head, as though trying to dislodge something that was stuck.

"What is that?" Edythe asked, tense. "I can't make sense of those images."

Archie shook his head and slumped, giving up. "Neither can I, that's the problem. I keep getting these flashes, nothing concrete. Like someone is changing their mind so fast I can't get a clear view."

"Indecision?" Carine murmured, frowning.

Jessamine's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "No," she said quietly, almost to herself. "I have trouble believing that whoever is doing this struggles with indecisiveness. If we are truly the target, this enemy must have some plan of attack."

Edythe nodded. "I agree. So, there is only one other explanation—whoever it is, they have knowledge of exactly how Archie's power works, and they have been using that to slip through the holes in his sight."

Archie shook his head. "But who in the heck would _know_ that?"

Edythe hesitated. Her eyes flickered to Carine, then back to the rest. She drew a short breath. "I hate to be the one to say this, but...the only vampire outside the ones standing here who has intimate knowledge of exactly how Archie's power works is Sulpicia."

Eleanor scoffed. "What possible reason would _Sulpicia_ have to try to get someone to attack our coven? Isn't she supposed to be busy dealing with some other fiasco in Europe?"

Carine said quietly, "Sulpicia's ways may seem harsh at times, but she would never attack us for no reason."

Edythe glanced at Carine again, then her eyes shifted. She stared at the ground as she spoke. "Sulpicia...has a mind unlike any vampire I have ever met. She's at once compassionate, just...and also unflinchingly, brutally ruthless."

Edythe slowly raised her eyes back to the room, and her face was hard. "Sulpicia saw the potential use of powers such as Archie's and mine—particularly Archie's. She tried not to think about it, but I saw flickers of half-formed plans—ways that she might drive us to her, should she ever come across a situation where our skills might be necessary."

Edythe glanced briefly at me, then looked away again quickly.

Carine's expression was calm, but I could see flickers of pain beneath the surface. "You really believe Sulpicia could be behind this? The newborns, the chaos in Seattle..."

Edythe's expression was composed. "I don't know. But Sulpicia has gone to elaborate, cruel measures to accomplish her goals in the past, and now that she doesn't have her thief to just take abilities she needs, she might be desperate. Whatever it is going on in Europe, it could be she wants Archie's help—and his permanent allegiance."

I stared at Edythe. She had never before told me this. For a moment, I pictured Archie dressed in a long dark cloak, his eyes glowing a deep crimson in the dark shadow of his hood. I felt a shiver down my spine.

Archie was shaking his head. "No, if Sulpicia was involved, I'd know. Even if she's gotten someone else to take care of the details, I'd have seen that."

"Well, nothing's going to happen if we stand around here all day debating about it!" Eleanor cut in, exasperated. She pummeled a fist in her hand.

Everyone was silent for a long moment.

At last, Edythe folded her arms. "Eleanor's right," she said in a low voice. "We may not have a grasp on what's really going on and why, but we have to act—and soon."

Carine sighed very deeply, touching a hand to her head as if it suddenly hurt her. "Yes," she said quietly. "Yes, I agree, there's no choice." She raised her eyes to Jessamine. "You'll have to teach us how to destroy them."

For some reason, as I listened to this war council, something pricked me at the back of my mind. I felt cold, numb with horror, and yet beneath that a hazy thought was floating just out of reach. I felt like there was something that we were missing, that would make sense out of the chaos.

"We are going to need help," Jessamine said. She was sitting tall and straight on the couch, in a way I had never seen her sit before. Jessamine had always seemed like the quiet one, the one who faded to the background—but in the firm set of her mouth and her authoritative voice I saw the vampire who had been second-in-command of one of the most fearsome and powerful southern newborn armies, the vampire who had accumulated those battle scars.

She continued, "If this army is as large as I think it is, fighting alone we will be putting ourselves at risk. But we have allies. If you could persuade Tanvir to come to our aid...well, another five mature vampires would be a great addition to our ranks. And with the abilities of Kirill and Elena...the battle could very well be almost too easy."

Carine nodded slowly. "I will ask. And I will do everything in my power to communicate the desperation of our current plight."

I didn't think I'd ever seen Carine look so shaken. I wondered if it was the prospect of fighting newborns and risking losing some of her family, being forced to kill the newborns, or the possibility Sulpicia—an old friend—might be the one behind it. Maybe it was all three.

Jessamine had produced a cellphone and she held it out to Carine. It took Carine a moment to notice it.

"We need to hurry," Jessamine said evenly, and though her features were, on the surface, calm, I saw tension again in the set of her mouth.

Carine drew in a shaky breath. "Of course." She took the phone and got up, going to the windows. She stood with her back to us, gazing at the murky forest outside. The pale light caused Carine's form to cast a long shadow across the floor.

Edythe took my hand and we waited.

Carine spoke into the phone in a low, rapid voice, which I had trouble following as she outlined the gist of our predicament.

However, she suddenly cut off, and she stood where she was a moment, frozen.

I heard Edythe curse softly beside me, and felt her hand grip mine.

At last Carine said in a quiet, almost faint voice, "No...I'm sorry. We had no idea."

Silence for a moment. Then Carine said something else very rapidly, too low for me to hear. Her tone was persuasive, almost pleading.

I looked between Edythe and Carine, trying to figure out what was going on. Edythe's normally pale skin was white, and I saw her clench her teeth. There was silence again as Carine listened.

"No," she said at last. "No, I'm afraid we simply can't agree to that. We have given our word, and we will not break it." She was quiet again and when she spoke again, her bleak voice had just a bit of an edge to it. "Yes. If that is your decision, then I see we are at an impasse. We will simply have to do our best alone."

She shut the phone without waiting for an answer. Her eyes didn't move from the fog outside.

"What?" I said, looking down at Edythe. "What happened?"

Eleanor and Jessamine looked to Edythe for answers too.

Edythe's face was dark with fury.

"Lauren," she spat. "Even dead she's a thorn in our side. We should have torn her to bits the moment Joss declared an attack on us—no, I should have sent her to the pit of hell myself."

I blinked, startled at Edythe's vehemence.

Of course, I wouldn't be forgetting Lauren anytime soon. Hers was a face that still occasionally crept up in my nightmares. She had been a member of Joss's coven, but declared she didn't want to have any part of it when Joss had targeted me. Instead, she'd gone north to Alaska to visit Tanvir and his family—the closest thing the Cullens had to friends in the vampire world. However, a few months back Lauren had slunk back to Forks, as a favor to her old friend Victor, to scout the place out for his planned vengeance. She'd run straight into me, and would have had me for a light snack if Jules and the rest of the pack hadn't ripped her to shreds.

"They're mad about Lauren?" said Eleanor, frowning. "She was only staying with them, what...a year?"

Edythe ground her teeth. "Apparently, Ivan got himself a bit entangled with her. So naturally, he wants revenge."

"So, in other words..." I said slowly.

Edythe glared at the far wall. "They'll help us, all right— _if_ we agree to sit back and let them take down the ones who killed Lauren."

I froze where I was, stunned.

"They want the wolves," I whispered. I didn't know what to say. I felt my heart pounding like a hammer in my chest, and my lungs didn't seem to want to work properly.

My panicked eyes studied Edythe's expression. Her eyes flashed, her mouth was twisted.

"Lauren," she seethed with disgust. "Imagine going to the trouble of vengeance for someone like her—I'd spit on her grave if she had one. If there was one thing in the world that could induce me to kiss those wolves, it was putting that two-faced pawn of Joss and Victor's out of her misery."

Eleanor grinned. "You should say that in front of Ivan. I'd love to see you have an excuse to bash his face in next time we see him."

"I will definitely consider it," Edythe said in a hard voice.

Carine sighed, finally turning away from the window. "Ivan is...in pain," she said quietly. "I imagine he isn't quite rational at the moment."

"All the more reason to knock some sense into him," Eleanor muttered.

I noticed Jessamine was still sitting on the couch, in the same straight-backed posture.

"Either way," Jessamine said, very quietly, "this is a serious blow for us. The playing field is simply too even—we vastly have the upper hand in skill and experience, but we will be outnumbered, perhaps two to one, maybe more. I have no doubt we would emerge victorious in the end, but...there would almost certainly be a cost."

The room was silent. I felt as though something cold had dropped into my stomach, and as I lifted my eyes, my gaze went slowly from one face to the next. Jessamine, Archie, Eleanor, Royal, Earnest, Carine...Edythe.

They would fight, and they would win. But not all of my family would make it back alive.

* * *

A/N: And, I made it. Definitely a bit of a tough chapter this time—Jessamine's story naturally had to be quite a bit different from Jasper's. As always, there are a few things I'm worried about, but I'm trying not to let myself get stuck anywhere. (I always tell myself if I want to change a line here or there, I can always go back and change it later. XD And strangely, that thought helps me keep moving forward.)

Anyway, some exciting news, CCNH .Tributo-Runner has asked to translate the 'Reimagined' series starting with New Moon into Spanish. The prologue is already up on the site (you can find reimagined stories pretty easily if you use the world filter and select 'Life and Death'), so if any of you are more comfortable reading in Spanish or have any Spanish-speaking friends, feel free to go check it out. :J

Thank you so much for all your thoughts and comments. If you have a moment, let me know what you think, and see you next time!

Posted 6/20/17


	14. Declaration

A/N: Ah, so much to work on, so little time. (Well, I guess there is time, it just doesn't seem like it when there's so much legwork to be done, and unexpected things come up.)

Thanks so much for all your support and comments, hope you enjoy, and see you at the end! C:

* * *

Chapter 13: Declaration

"I knew it," I muttered. "You're crazy."

We were sitting in the cafeteria, lunch trays in front of us. I was directing a glare at Archie who, at the moment, was beaming with a look of such pure innocence he would have put a Catholic saint to shame.

"Dude, of course we are _totally_ still having the graduation gig. It wouldn't feel like a real graduation without one."

"I feel like this is completely not the time for this," I grumbled. Glancing around, I added more quietly, "You know...with everything that's going on."

Archie sighed. "Look, there are a few things we need to get in order now and that's going to take some time. I don't see any point just sitting around waiting for the blade to drop. We should be living! _Especially_ right now." He added casually, "You're only going to graduate high school—for the first time—once, you know."

Edythe shot Archie a disapproving look for talking so freely, which he answered with a dismissive wave of his hand and roll of his eyes. He was right, of course—there was no way his voice would carry over the excited babble.

I shook my head, but realized there was no point arguing. "What things do you need to get in order?" I asked.

Edythe kept her voice low as she replied. "To give ourselves every advantage, we need allies in this fight. Tanvir's family isn't our only option. Carine's trying to find a few old friends at the moment, and Jessamine's hoping to track down Petra and Charles. It's crossed her mind even to speak to Miguel, but I don't think she's considering that seriously. The last and only time we encountered him, things were...colorful, to say the least. Miguel claims not to harbor any resentment for Jessamine's leaving the way she did, but that's not entirely true, and if Miguel did help us, he'd certainly expect some kind of significant favor in return. Not to mention none of us are really all that eager to bring the southerners and their way of life _here_."

I stared down at my tray. If Jessamine had even thought about going to Miguel of all people, the one who had ushered her into a world of violence, that could only mean she considered the situation extremely desperate.

Edythe continued, "I don't think it will be difficult to rally a few others to our cause. None of us want to be exposed to the human world, and no one wants to find out what Sulpicia might do by the way of cleanup if things are allowed to really spiral out of control."

I hesitated. "These allies," I said, trying to sound nonchalant. "They aren't going to be... _vegetarians_ , are they?" It was more a statement than a question.

Edythe's face turned abruptly wary. "No," she said. "No, they won't be."

I felt something twist in my stomach. The idea of non-vegetarian vampires...here in Forks. And it only further proved how grave the circumstances were. They needed allies, and they needed them bad.

"Don't worry, Beau," Edythe said softly, putting a hand over mine. "These are friends. They won't be any danger to anyone here in Forks."

I nodded, though I looked away. The truth was, I hoped they would come—if they gave my family a better chance to all come out alive, I'd gladly invite whoever I needed to into town, no matter what they ate.

Archie opened his mouth to say something, but then a blank look crossed his face. I knew he was seeing something, and for a moment, I tensed.

However, when he came out of it, he only looked minorly put out. "Dang, I just hate when people have to cancel. That's going to bring the list down to sixty-five."

I gaped at him, silently mouthing the number. Sixty-five—did I even know that many people?

Archie sighed. "Your mom. She was going to fly up here as kind of a surprise graduation gift thing, but...well, I'm sure you'll hear about it when you get back. She's left a message on your phone."

I blinked, then had to suppress a smile. This felt like my first stroke of good fortune in weeks. The last thing I wanted was my mom in Forks when there could be non-vegetarian vampires prowling around before long.

"Oh yeah," Archie said. "By the way, there's something else she has to tell you, too." His voice was just a bit too casual.

I glanced at him curiously. "What?"

He grinned a little, and shook his head. "You'll find out."

* * *

The message light on the phone was flashing when I got home. I found myself smiling as I listened to my mom describe Phil's accident on the ball field—apparently while doing a slide he'd tangled up with the catcher and broken his thigh bone. She had to take care of him and there was no way she could leave. She was still apologizing when the message cut off.

"Something funny?" Edythe asked, eying my expression with wary confusion.

I picked up the phone, ready to call my mom. "Not really. Just I think I could kiss Phil right now. He chose a good weekend to get laid up, I couldn't have planned it better myself."

Edythe seemed to understand and she looked at me incredulously, then rolled her eyes.

I shook my head. "I really don't get why you and Archie don't seem to be taking this seriously. I mean, Jessamine's the expert, and she's actually considering bringing up her southern buddies. She wouldn't even go there if this wasn't life or death."

Edythe smiled and took my hand between hers, running her fingers playfully along mine, tracing my knuckles. "Maybe Archie and I are just young and naïve."

I gave her a dark look at her flippancy. "I bet it's overconfidence," I muttered as I punched in my mom's number.

It was a long conversation, especially considering I wasn't able to get more than a few words in edgewise. No, Mom, it's fine, really, I totally understand. I'm not disappointed, I'm not annoyed. Just take care of Phil. Tell him I said I hope he gets better soon and, okay, I'll tell you everything from Forks High's plain, generic graduation.

At last I had to tell her I had finals I really needed to study for. However, before I could get off, she said, "Oh, one last thing. I can't believe I nearly forgot—but between Phil getting hurt and missing your graduation—I'm so sorry, sweetie—"

"It's okay, Mom," I said, unable to keep the sigh from my voice. "Really."

"Well—" she began, and I was surprised to hear a note of something like embarrassment. "It seems like—well, I'm pregnant."

I was quiet for a minute, too stunned to say anything. Finally, I managed to stutter out, "That—that's great, Mom. I didn't know you were trying for more kids."

She laughed a little, sounding almost nervous. "Well, we weren't actually. I guess I must have been careless. But—"

I knew my mom well enough that I could hear the mix of emotions in her voice, even over the phone. On the surface, she sounded almost radiant with joy, but I also detected an undercurrent of nerves, and just a little guilt.

"That's great, Mom," I said again, with real enthusiasm this time. "Now, you have to take care of yourself. No skydiving. Make sure you're getting all your vitamins. Get Phil in on it, he can help—uh, after he gets over his leg, I guess."

She laughed with relief. "Oh, I will. He's so excited. I was a little worried telling him at first, since we hadn't talked too much about kids, but—he honestly seems so happy, I know he'll make a good dad."

"Of course he will," I said. I paused. "But, really, Mom. I've got to go, I really need to get studying. Or I might not actually graduate."

She laughed. "You're going to make me believe my responsible son has put off studying until the last possible minute?"

I glanced down at Edythe, who had been standing beside me the entire conversation, contently tracing the knuckles on the back of my hand.

"Uh, well, I've been...kind of preoccupied lately."

"I'll bet," she said with a knowing laugh. "Okay, sweetie. I'll see you. I'm so sorry I couldn't be there. Love you."

"It's okay, Mom," I said. "I love you, too."

I hung up the phone.

Edythe was looking up at me curiously. "She sounded a bit tense when she told you she was pregnant, didn't she?" she said thoughtfully.

I stared down at her for a second, then frowned. "You knew what she was going to say."

"When Archie saw that she was going to have to cancel, he also saw the other thing she was going to tell you. It seems like she only just found out this morning." She eyed me for a second. "I would have thought that would be the type of news she would be thrilled to share with you. But her tone...she sounded stressed."

I glanced at Edythe, and it took me a second to realize that of course she couldn't hear my mom's thoughts over the phone.

"Yeah," I said. "With me being away, I figured she would probably be worried, you know, about me feeling left out or something. Like she's getting a new family, and replacing me."

"Oh," Edythe said. "I see." She gazed up at me for a moment. "You really understand your mother, don't you?" she said softly.

I shrugged. "If she calls me her open book, I like to think that goes two ways."

Edythe nodded, eyes still studying me.

I slumped against the counter. "Anyway, glad the thing with Phil happened now. That's at least one person who'll be safe come this Saturday."

"It is a good thing, I suppose," Edythe said, "if it puts your mind at ease."

I sighed, shaking my head.

"So," Edythe said, letting our hands fall a little, even as she entwined her fingers with mine. "By the way. I'm going hunting tomorrow. With Carine, Earnest, and Royal. Only a few hours—we'll stay close. You'll just be staying for awhile with Archie, Jessamine, and Eleanor.

I grimaced. Tomorrow was the last day of finals—Calculus and History—and it was only a half day, so I wouldn't be able to count on school to keep me occupied.

"Babysat," I muttered. "Jessamine's probably going to sit there looking bored. And Eleanor will probably rehash every single time she's seen me trip over my own two feet."

"It'll only be a few hours," Edythe said soothingly. "And I'll make sure they're on their best behavior."

Yeah. Like I believed that.

However, a thought occurred to me. "Hey," I said slowly, cautiously. "You know...I haven't been to La Push in a while. Since the bonfire."

The only change in Edythe's careful expression was that I saw the corners of her mouth tighten fractionally.

"I _would_ be safe there," I pointed out.

Edythe hesitated, then sighed. "Yes, you probably would be."

Her face was calm, but just a little too smooth. I almost took it back and said maybe I'd stay at her house after all, but then I thought of Eleanor's relentless teasing compared with the prospect of hanging out with my best friend again, and I didn't say anything. Instead, I asked, "Are you thirsty already?" I cupped my hand around her cheek and, with my thumb, rubbed the light shadow beneath her eye. Her irises were still a deep gold.

Edythe glanced away. "No...not really." She paused, and when her eyes wandered back to my expectant, questioning expression, she sighed.

"We want to be as strong as possible," she explained. "When it comes time for the fight, we'll probably hunt again on the way, looking for big game."

"That makes you stronger?" I said curiously. I'd never thought about it, but of course, it made sense.

"...Yes," Edythe said slowly. She added reluctantly, "It's human blood that makes us the strongest, though only fractionally. Jessamine...the thought of cheating has crossed her mind. As deeply averse as she is to the idea, when she gets into her mode for battle—well, she's used to doing everything to give her side every possible advantage. But I don't think she'll bring it up. She knows Carine would never agree to it."

My hand was still on her cheek, and I gazed down into her eyes. I heard myself say evenly, "Would that help?"

Edythe gazed up at me, her mouth set. "We won't do it. No matter the consequences, we won't betray ourselves." However, as she looked up into my face, I thought I saw a flicker of something deep in her eyes. She reached up and gently stroked my cheek, and I could see a conflict in her expression. Then she sighed and pulled away, half turning away from me.

My hand felt numb where it had touched her, and my tongue that had asked the question burned. _Would that help?_ If I knew it would give her a better chance of survival, even just by a fraction...if killing some stranger would make her just a little stronger, a little less likely to be hurt or killed—was I willing to see that?

Even having the thought for a moment felt monstrous, wrong. And yet...the more I thought about it, the more I realized that, for some sick part of me, it was true.

Edythe turned back to me, changing the subject. "That's why the newborns are so strong, of course. They're full of human blood—their own blood, reacting to the change. It lingers in their tissues, and their bodies slowly use it up. The strength usually starts to wane after about a year."

"How strong will I be?" I asked, curious.

Edythe smiled a little. "Well, stronger than I am."

"What about Royal? Eleanor?"

Edythe was grinning now. "Yes, even Eleanor. Do me a favor, and when you're changed, challenge her to an arm-wrestling match. She could use having someone knock her down a peg."

I laughed, a part of me enjoying the idea, but I privately resolved against it. I was only going to be super-strong for a year, and even if Eleanor didn't hold grudges, Royal might on her behalf. And he already had reason enough to have a grudge against me. I didn't want to have to be watching my back for centuries to come.

I suddenly sighed and made a face. "Well, guess it's time to study. If I'm going to cram a year's worth of knowledge into my brain before finals, I better get started. Or, like I told my mom, I might not actually graduate."

Edythe smiled. "You'll graduate." She added with a sly expression, "What do you think bribes are for?"

I gave her a look, and decided it was better not to answer that.

My studies went a lot smoother than I was used to with Edythe there to act as a tutor. I figured as long as I concentrated during the tests, I could be reasonably confident I'd do okay—on the other hand, if I wasn't concentrating, I might just end up writing my history essay on the vampire wars of the South.

Midway through the afternoon I took a break to call Jules. Edythe showed no sign of edginess or agitation, and played with my hand again, like she had when I was talking to my mom.

Jules seemed unusually out of it at first—though it was the middle of the day, apparently she'd been asleep. However, she snapped out of it and perked right up when I asked if I could visit the next day. As the Quileute school was already out for the summer, she told me to come over as early as I could.

I was feeling good as I hung up the phone. It was a relief not to have to spend the day getting ribbed by Eleanor, and with graduation so close, it would be nice to spend more time with Jules.

The next day Edythe drove me to border again—I tried to focus on the president-bodyguard imagery for these slightly obsessive escorts, but I still mainly felt like a kid, being passed off from one custodial guardian to another.

"So, how do you feel about your exams?" Edythe asked conversationally.

I shrugged. "History wasn't bad, but I'm not sure about Calculus. It actually seemed like it was making sense, so that probably means I duffed it."

Edythe laughed. "That bribing option is still open."

"Thanks, but no thanks."

Edythe grinned again, but the expression froze as we turned the final bend and caught sight of the red car waiting by the road. Edythe pursed her lips, and seemed to be concentrating on something as she parked the car.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Nothing." Edythe's eyes were narrowed, and she was staring through the windshield straight at the other car across the way.

I turned to look at the car, but it was too far for me to make Jules out clearly. I looked back to Edythe. "Is she saying something to you?" I asked.

"Yes," Edythe said, without looking away from the other windshield. Then, "No, not to me. More like to the entire neighborhood. If she was thinking any more loudly, I couldn't hear myself think."

"What's she saying?" I asked, not quite able to curb my curiosity.

Edythe sighed. "Don't worry, I'm sure she'll tell you herself."

"Um, okay." I got out of the car quickly and hurried over, hoping Jules wouldn't have time to do something that would really set Edythe's teeth on edge.

Before I reached the Rabbit, I paused and turned back a minute to wave. From this distance, it looked like Edythe was glaring at Jules with an expression of pure poison. But, it was really too far away to see clearly, so maybe I was just imagining it.

There were definitely times I wished I could somehow get Edythe and Jules to get along. If it wasn't for the whole vampire-werewolf, mortal-enemies things...

Sighing, I climbed on into Jules's car and shut the door.

"Hey," Jules said, grinning. "You're back."

Although Jules's tone was cheerful, her voice dragged a little, and I studied her face as she started off down the road.

She looked different than she had at the bonfire—almost sick. Her eyelids drooped and the russet skin of her face was drawn and pale. She had dark half circles, not unlike a vampire, beneath her eyes, and her hair looked as though it hadn't seen a brush in a few days.

"You okay?" I asked uncertainly. "You look kind of...I don't know."

"Just tired," she managed, though the last word was distorted around around a huge yawn. She reached up and absently began combing her fingers through her hair, trying to make it lie flat. "So what do you want to do today?"

I eyed her for a minute, then said, "How about we just chill at your place for a while? Maybe we can ride our bikes later." I didn't think she looked up for anything too strenuous at the moment.

"Sure, sure," she said, waving a hand, and yawning so widely I could see her canines. I almost expected them to be long and sharp, like a dog's, but they looked totally normal.

Jules's house was empty when we got there, and I looked around in confusion.

"Where's Bonnie?" I asked.

Jules shrugged. "I drove her over to the Clearwaters earlier. Saul likes to have someone to talk to, so she's been over there a lot. I think it's been helping him cope a little with losing Holly." Jules hesitated, then added, "And I guess, you know, he's been kind of struggling with...somethings to do with his kids."

I nodded. I could only imagine what Sarah and Lee were going through, losing their mom like that.

Without seeming to think about what she was doing, Jules picked up the remote and flipped on the TV. Again she put a hand to her mouth as she tried to stifle another yawn.

I shook my head. "You know, you're starting to remind me of this zombie movie I saw. Don't tell me now you're a werewolf _and_ the undead."

Jules chuckled. "I feel a bit like the undead. I got about two hours of sleep last night, and four the night before that. I guess I'm not the Energizer bunny after all. I could use a recharge."

"You aren't sleeping?" I asked, brow furrowing. "Why?"

Jules sighed. "It's just Sam. She still won't trust your bloodsuckers, so she won't send anyone onto their land. So I've been running double shifts myself to keep an eye on things."

I stared at her. "Hold on. This is because you're still looking out for me?" I shook my head. "Look, you've got to cut it out. You'll run yourself right into the ground."

Jules seemed abruptly more alert. "It's no big deal. Hey, did you find out who was in your room?"

I shook my head. "No...nothing." I wondered if I should tell her about what we suspected was going on in Seattle—however, I thought better of it. If she was going this far just for my one visitor, if I told her anything else she might not sleep at all.

"Yeah, I didn't think so," she said, closing her eyes. "Don't worry, I'll be around."

"That makes me worry more," I muttered. "Seriously, if you die of exhaustion out there because of me, I'll never forgive you."

Jules laughed. "I'm not doing this all for you, you know. I'm hoping to get my teeth in a bloodsucker. I'll be the envy of the entire pack."

I didn't smile, only glared at her.

"Sheesh," she muttered. "You're so serious."

We sat in silence for a minute, staring at the TV, though I wasn't really seeing it.

"So," said Jules at last. "Any special plans next week?" Her voice turned abruptly flat. "You're graduating. Wow, that's big."

I glanced at her, and her suddenly haggard expression. I knew what my graduation meant to her—though at the moment, it looked like my plans might be disrupted.

"Well," I said, making a face. "I have a graduation partly, apparently. Does that count? Planned against my will, incidentally."

Jules smiled at this and, as I'd hoped, seemed to take this as confirmation the thing she dreaded wouldn't be happening just yet. "Huh, are you? I didn't get an invitation."

"You're invited," I said. "It's my party."

Jules snorted. "Thanks a lot. Me at a party full of vampires. That would be smart."

"It might actually be almost fun if you were there," I said. And I realized I meant it, even as I knew the chance she would come was pretty much zilch. Much as I might want to do something about it, the vampire-werewolf situation was one of many things out of my control.

Eyes closed, Jules grinned a little, shaking her head as if I was crazy. "Really...smart..." she repeated in a mumble.

Then her breathing became deep and even, and I could tell she was asleep.

I studied her face for a minute. Funny how, when she was asleep, she always looked so much more like the Jules I knew before all this craziness about werewolves. She looked younger...not so hard, or so bitter.

I thought it was better she get some rest, so I settled into the couch, grabbing the remote and flipping through channels. There wasn't a whole lot on, but at last I settled for a cooking show. It seemed safe...and normal.

I felt oddly relaxed, and my eyes felt heavy. This house somehow felt safer than mine—maybe because no vampires had ever come looking for me here.

I sat there for awhile in a kind of semi-awake stupor, not really seeing the television, my mind drifting in and out as my thoughts wandered.

Finals were done. My high school education was over...It was hard to know how to feel about that. I wasn't entirely sure I felt much of anything. It seemed so minor next to the fact my human life would soon be over too. On that front, my emotions were high and all a jumble. I was happy...and nervous, and terrified. This was what I wanted—yet, there were definitely things I was going to lose that I would miss. My parents, my friends at school...and...

Jules shifted in her sleep beside me. Her head, which had been leaning against the back of the couch, suddenly flopped onto my shoulder and she twisted, turning toward me.

I gasped slightly at the unexpected weight. Jules was a little shorter than I was, but she was heavier than I could have guessed—it was like being under a sack of barbells. I was also very suddenly uncomfortably hot. I felt like I was sitting under a blast furnace.

I sat there for a minute, debating whether I should move and risk waking her, or just let her use me as a pillow until she woke up. However, as I felt the entire left side of my body go numb, and sweat broke out on my skin, I finally worked up the nerve to try to sidle out from under her. She might be more comfortable if she could lay down anyway.

However, I wasn't all that smooth, and I'd only made it part way when she abruptly snapped awake.

She leaped to her feet, bleary eyes darting this way and that. "What? What?" she demanded, clenched fists raised for a fight.

"Just me, Jules. Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up."

She turned to look at me, and she frowned hazily. "Beau?" she said, squinting. She looked around the room, confused for a second, then seemed to remember.

"Did I fall asleep?" she demanded.

I paused. "Yeah," I admitted.

"Stupid, why didn't you wake me up? How long has it been?"

I shrugged. "Not long. Maybe a half an hour. I'm not sure, I was kind of out of it, too."

Jules blew out a sigh as she threw herself back down on the couch. "Wasting time," she muttered. "I can't believe it."

"It really looked like you could use the rest," I noted.

She yawned and stretched, then shook her head vigorously.

"Let's go outside," she said. "I might fall asleep again if we stay in here."

"Maybe I should go," I said uncertainly. "I mean, sleep deprivation isn't healthy. Maybe I can come back another time." I patted my pockets for Edythe's phone, but I couldn't find it. Maybe I'd left it in her car. Edythe normally gave it to me just before I went, but she'd seemed a bit distracted.

Jules reached out and grabbed my hand, gripping it tight. "No way, you just got here." She looked up at me, in her eyes just a hint of desperation.

I hesitated, trying to think of what I should say. However, before I could decide, Jules was up again, towing me toward the door.

It had gotten cooler while Jules had been asleep. Almost unseasonably cold—must be a storm on the way. It felt more like February than May.

The wintry air seemed to stimulate Jules, and she seemed more alert as she led me automatically along the rough path toward her homemade garage. However, we hadn't even passed beyond the edge of the house when she suddenly stopped. Jules's body was suddenly tense, her hand firmly gripped around mine.

"Jules?"

"I...wanted to talk to you," she said suddenly. "About something."

I shrugged. "So talk."

Jules was squinting in the direction of the treetops. Maybe I was just imagining things, but I thought her russet skin looked a shade darker than usual. She seemed to notice she was still holding my hand and she let it go quickly, folding her hands in front of her. She fidgeted.

I was about to tell her to spit it out, but then I remembered Edythe's cryptic remarks about Jules's thoughts earlier, and I wondered if I really wanted to know.

Jules laughed nervously, the sound a little higher than her usual laugh.

"This is probably going to sound like it's coming out of nowhere," she began. "And kind of cheesy. I was sort of hoping the mood would just kind of build up to it and it would just come out natural, but..." Her eyes rose from the treetops to the sky above, the usual deep blue a slight gray as the storm approached. When she spoke, her voice came out as a whisper. "I'm almost out of time."

I didn't say anything as she continued to gaze up at the sky a moment.

At last, she slowly turned to face me. All traces of humor were gone, and her expression was more serious than I had ever seen it.

"Soon, you're going to be one of them," she said quietly. "A vampire...monster. But the thing is, you don't have to, Beau. You have other options."

"Jules—" I began, but Jules put up a hand to stop me.

"Just hear me out, okay?" She drew a breath. "I know how you feel about her, Beau. She's the reason you're doing this. But—and I know you already know this— _I_ love you. I love you, and you could choose me instead of her."

Her dark eyes were locked with mine, perfectly clear, and devoid of even the hint of doubt. "I'm saying it now, straight out, because there's too much at stake, and I don't want there to be any misunderstanding."

* * *

A/N: And, there's a bit more progress. (I think next chapter might be one a few of you have been waiting for. ;j)

On a side note, I made a discovery a week or two ago that I think will be helpful in this project, and future writing projects. I'd been meaning to look into text-to-speech programs, that can read your writing aloud to you; I spend a lot of time listening to audiobooks while I work on various projects in Photoshop, so I thought having that as an option would be a real advantage. I discovered a download of a program called 'NaturalReader,' and even though it can take a bit of getting used to, I was surprised by how good even just the free version was. So, I've been excited about that. (I would definitely recommend it to anyone who's interested.)

Thanks for reading! If you have a chance, let me know what you thought, and I'll see you all next time! C:

Posted 7/10/17


	15. Options

A/N: Hey, back again. C:

I think I'm a week late again this time. (I was gone the week it would normally go up, and pretty much working and/or doing things with family the entire time, plus also away from easy internet access, and I didn't want to rush it to try to get it out a week early.) Hopefully we'll be back on schedule for next time. (But, you know how these things go. x3)

Thanks so much for reading, and for all your comments last chapter. Hope you enjoy, and see you at the end! C:

* * *

Chapter 14: Options

"I'm saying it now, straight out, because there's too much at stake, and I don't want there to be any misunderstanding."

I could only stare at her for a long minute, my face slack with surprise. I tried to get my brain to work, to think of some reply, but nothing would come.

Jules gazed back at me for a moment, then suddenly grinned, the seriousness gone as quickly as it had come.

"And, that's all I wanted to say."

I still didn't know what to say. My throat had constricted, and I couldn't seem to swallow.

At last, my gaze dropped from hers. "Jules—" I began. "The thing is—I mean I don't—I think I'd better go."

I backed up a step.

Jules reached out and snagged my wrist. "Hold on. I already know. I know how you feel, but that's okay."

I sighed. "How is this okay?"

"I'm just telling you like it is," she said. "And I know you don't feel the same way, but I know you _do_ want me around. You miss hanging out when we're apart, same way I do. Okay, that doesn't mean you're _in_ love, but I think it's still love. Like a family kind of love."

I shook my head. "Exactly. It's not the same for me as it is for you. Maybe...Maybe it would be better if I didn't keep coming back here. Better for you."

Jules laughed, then rolled her eyes. "As much as I _love_ your charity, and you trying to act all mature and you deciding what _you_ think is best for _me—_ no thanks. As long as you want me around, I'll be around. Don't try to act like a martyr, it doesn't suit you."

I hesitated.

Jules studied me pensively for a moment, then took a step closer. She peered up into my conflicted face, before she raised a hand toward my forehead, as though to brush back the hair that had fallen there. However, at the last moment, her hand dropped, and instead she slid a finger in a slow, deliberate caress across my jaw.

I jerked away from her, scowling. "Do you have to act like that all of a sudden?"

Jules grinned. "Sorry. I just couldn't help myself."

"Well, don't do it again."

"Sure, sure," she said, but from the way her grin widened and the mischievous gleam in her eye, I didn't trust her.

"Why are you acting like this?"

Jules's smile faded, once again turning to a more serious expression. Her dark eyes were sad, almost anguished.

"Soon your heart's going to stop beating," she said quietly. "Can you blame me for trying? For fighting as hard as I can until the end?"

I stared back at her, for a moment unable to respond. I could suddenly feel it in my chest—my still-beating heart, thudding painfully against my ribs, again and again.

"I can only feel that way about one person," I said, in a low, hoarse voice.

Jules nodded. "But I have to try," she said in a quieter voice still. "You want to see me...and if you're going to keep coming back, you have to let me try."

I looked away, as a thousand tiny knives of guilt needled my conscience. She was right, in a way—what I was doing wasn't fair. I kept telling her there was no hope, yet I kept coming back here anyway, sending mixed messages, and on top of that, it always had to be on my terms. Of course what she was asking for couldn't happen— _letting her try_ wouldn't be fair to someone else, not to mention it would only make things that much worse for Jules in the longrun. But if I cared about her at all, I would leave right now. Leave, and finally give her the chance to make a clean break with the past.

Jules was watching my face carefully as these thoughts spun through my mind. Abruptly, her mouth split into a grin. "Good, aren't I?" she said.

"Good?" I repeated uncertainly.

The gleam of her white teeth flashed against her russet skin. "Emotional manipulation," she said casually. "Works every time. You're too easy."

I scowled at her, though the needling guilt remained. "That's not something you should be proud of. And announcing it afterward kind of defeats the purpose."

Jules laughed. "Guess you've got a point. I'll have to work on that."

My disapproving glare probably would have made Charlie proud, and finally Jules sighed, relenting.

"Come on," she said in a conciliatory tone. "Don't get bent out of shape. You already knew how I felt anyway, so it's not like me coming out and saying it really changes anything." She added, "But I _am_ going to try. I'm going to try every trick in the book. I couldn't forgive myself if I didn't at least do that."

I looked away, not quite sure how I wanted to respond. Whether to just forgive her, as I knew I inevitably would, or stay irritated. I felt more like staying irritated at the moment—that was easier than the guilt.

I blinked, and was surprised when I suddenly felt her arm around my shoulder.

"Maybe there's just something irresistible about a lost cause," she sighed.

I tensed slightly—I didn't like this kind of casual contact when she was acting like this. It didn't feel right, especially when Edythe was so far away.

My mouth set, I turned my head to tell her once again to knock it off, at the same time she turned her head toward me.

Finding our faces inches apart, for a moment I was too startled to react. In that second, I saw how her expression changed. Startled, for a fraction of a second—then her dark eyes seemed to burn, somehow soft and hard at the same time. A blazing passion that turned in an instant to resolve.

She breathed my name, and before I could even think to try to stop her or pull away, her lips were suddenly pressed to mine.

Instantly, I seized her by the shoulders. I tried to push her back, lightly at first, then hard. However, one of her arms was locked around my neck, her other hand holding my face, and I couldn't pull free. I couldn't believe how strong she was. Her mouth was warm and soft—unfamiliar—against mine, and no matter how much strength I put in it, she didn't even seem to notice.

Finally, I took the last option that seemed available to me—I shut down. I let my arms drop to my sides and I opened my eyes, and stood where I was, unmoving.

Jules did respond then. She finally pulled away from me, though the arm around my neck stayed in place. She was breathing a little hard as she looked up into my chilly, expressionless face. She grinned suddenly, looking pleased with herself, before she finally let her arm drop.

The instant her arm was gone, I took a sharp step backward. I was trembling all over, and I couldn't remember the last time I'd been so angry. If I was a wolf, I probably would have phased right there.

"If you're done," I said coldly, "I'm going home now."

I spun, turning my back on her, and started stalking in the direction of the road.

Jules followed me. She was almost skipping.

"Sure, whatever you want. But you might want me to drive you. Your girlfriend won't be happy if she thinks I let you go to the border unprotected. Want me to call her to let her know to pick you up?"

She was still following me. My fists were shaking at my sides.

"Don't talk to me," I said through gritted teeth. "I'm so pissed I could hit you right now."

"Go ahead," Jules said cheerfully. "If it'll make you feel better." She paused, then added, "You'd probably break your hand, though. Werewolves aren't as hard as vampires, but we're not soft, either."

I gnashed my teeth.

"Come on," Jules said. "I'll drive you home. I won't even talk to you the whole way."

I stared out into the woods. I could walk to the border from here. It was only a few miles, and once I was away from her, Archie would see where I was. I didn't mind walking—at the moment, I probably wouldn't have minded walking over broken glass to get away from her.

However, against my will, a bit of rational thought slithered back into my mind. As much as I hated to admit it, Jules was right—I really shouldn't be wandering off on my own right now, with Victor and possible other parties unknown out for my blood. She had me trapped.

"Fine," I snapped. I stalked back to her car, and got in without looking at her.

When Jules got in on the driver's side, she was whistling.

I folded my arms across my chest, glaring out the windshield.

Jules put the car into gear. We drove a minute in silence before she said, "So."

"You promised not to talk," I snapped.

Jules ignored me, still grinning like she'd won the lottery. "You might act like you hate me now, but I did it for your own good."

I turned to gape at her in disbelief. "My own—" I sputtered.

Jules went on cheerfully, "You'll think about it later. When you go to bed tonight, when she thinks you're asleep, you'll be thinking about your options."

"Wow, how calculating," I said, injecting all the disgust I could manage.

Jules grinned and shrugged. "You know what they say, all's fair in love and war. And I think that's doubly true when the enemy's a slimy vampire."

I turned my head to glare out the side window; however, I could still see Jules's faint reflection in the glass, and her face turned earnest again.

"Just think of how it could be," she said softly. "You wouldn't have to change anything for me, Beau. You wouldn't have to give up anything. You wouldn't have to say goodbye to Charlie, your mom. You wouldn't have to live every day wanting to do horrible things. And there's so much I'd have to give you that she couldn't—instead of being frozen forever, life would keep moving. I could even give you a family."

She suddenly laughed, a little nervously. "You know, I was kind of worried about that at first. I guess just about every girl freaks out their first month in the pack. Because, you know, we don't...well, we've all wondered at some point if we could have kids or not. We thought maybe anyone who was a wolf just couldn't, maybe you had to wait until you got mellow enough to stop phasing, and your body started aging again. But, the elders say that, according to all the legends—like, if you look at the story of Taha Aki—the wolves can have kids just fine. They can even phase while they're pregnant and it doesn't bother the baby—but it's tribal law they aren't supposed to fight when they're carrying a kid. The fact they don't...bleed...has something to do with the rapid wolf healing thing." She gave another kind of nervous, embarrassed laugh.

If I wasn't so pissed and this was conversation was under normal circumstances, I probably would have rolled my eyes and told her she could say the word _period_ around me—I'd lived with my mom for enough years and done enough of the shopping at the store that I liked to think I was mature enough to handle it. I probably also would have been interested in learning something new about how the whole wolf thing worked.

As it was, I wasn't going to do anything to try to make her feel less awkward. I didn't look at her, just kept glaring out the window.

"I honestly don't care who can have children and who can't," I said through my teeth. "That's not even a factor. McKayla can probably have kids, too, but that doesn't mean I'm going to be going out with her the next time she asks me. I've already made my choice."

"I know," Jules said. "I know you've chosen her. Because you think you can't be happy without her—but the thing is, you don't actually know that. Because you never _tried_ to be happy without her before. All your energy back then went into holding on. You could let go. _I_ could make you happy."

I continued to glare out the side window. "I already made my decision," I repeated coldly.

"Maybe," Jules argued. "But what would you do if she left like she did last time? How can you trust her after what she did?"

I turned to glower at her. "The same way I trust _you—_ Or did trust you. You turned your back on me once too, remember?"

It was a cruel thing to say. But Jules's bringing up that empty, hollow time last winter brought back memories of the pain, and I found myself automatically lashing back.

"I didn't," Jules said, a deep slash forming in her brow. "Never. They ordered me not to tell you, or I would have. I kept away from you at first because it wasn't safe for you—but I did everything I could. Those weeks we were apart, I would run around your house at night, just to make sure you were okay. I never would have left at all if I had a choice—and I found a way to bring us together again eventually."

My arms were still folded, and I was determined not to let her make me feel bad.

We drove in silence for another minute before Jules said, "You'll be thinking about it. Tonight."

"Yeah," I muttered. "I'll be thinking about whether I need to get a restraining order."

"Come on. That had to be better than kissing an ice sculpture."

I snorted, though more out of irritation than amusement. "You wish."

"You kissed me back there at first," she said. "I think you're less decided than you'd like to admit."

If Jules was trying to get me to stop glaring out the window and look at her, this outrageous assertion had the desired effect.

"You honestly think—I was trying to get you to back off. I guess I was being too subtle for you. Maybe I should use a crowbar next time."

Jules's face lit up. "Sure. _Next time._ I'm cool with that. Crowbars, bats, anvils—whenever you want."

I growled and ground my teeth, then spun away from her again, resting my head in my hand and directing a death glare at the forest whipping by outside. Letting her get a rise out of me was just encouraging her. Better to ignore her.

I did feel bad for how I had been treating her these past months—friend zoning her in the extreme with everything I said, but then continuing to go see her, continually renewing false hope. I knew I was in the wrong on that. But even so, I couldn't believe she would act like this. Like she could just do whatever she wanted, and I didn't even have a say in the matter. She could act like it was this big joke, but how was I supposed to trust her when she went around doing things like that?

I scowled out the window, and wondered vaguely if her acting like a jerk, who went around forcing her feelings on people against their will, would give her more man points, or less. In my book, definitely less.

Jules tried to start the conversation again a few times, but she was met with only stoney silence, and finally she gave up, though her high spirits seemed unaffected.

I was so focused on my furious internal monologue and keeping my gaze in the opposite direction from where she sat, that when the car came to a stop it took me a moment to realize we were at my house. Not too soon for me.

Not bothering to thank her for the ride, I tore off my seat belt and got out of the car as fast as I could, slamming the door with unnecessary force behind me. However, as I stalked toward the house, to my intense dismay, Jules switched off the engine and got out, following me to the door.

"Please, go _away_ already," I said through my teeth. "I'm so sick of you right now."

"You seem a little emotionally unstable at the moment," she said with a serious face. "In my professional opinion, I don't think you should be left alone right now."

I pointed to the police cruiser in the driveway. "I think my dad is enough to keep me taken care of, thanks."

Still looking way too cheery and completely unrepentant, Jules ignored me and, as I opened the door, followed me on in.

Charlie was sitting on the sofa in the living room when he saw us.

"Hey, kids," he called. "Nice to see you here again, Julie. Feels like it's been awhile."

"It does, doesn't it?" she answered, looking fondly around the hall and living room.

I stalked straight to the kitchen without a word.

"What's got him?" Charlie asked, looking puzzled.

Jules shrugged with supreme nonchalance. "He's a bit cheesed because I got in his personal space."

"Personal space?" Charlie said curiously.

"Well, I kissed him," Jules explained, without the least hint of shame.

Charlie laughed. "Did you? Caught him off guard?"

"Completely," Jules said smugly.

I growled audibly as I headed straight toward the phone. Clearly, there was only one way I was going to get her out of this house. When you were trying to get rid of pushy werewolves, sometimes it paid to know a few vampires.

I quickly punched in Edythe's cell, and she answered on the first ring.

"Beau?" Edythe couldn't quite hide the relief in her voice, and she sounded happy. I could hear the Volvo's engine purring in the background, as though she had been sitting in the car the whole time. "You left the phone...did you get a ride back to your house?"

"Yeah," I grumbled. "Edythe, do you think you could do me a favor?"

Edythe picked up on my tone, and when she spoke again, her voice was wary. "What is it? Is something wrong?"

"We have a wildlife problem," I said cryptically.

"A wildlife problem," Edythe repeated slowly.

I gave up on cryptic. "Actually, since I've had it drilled into me my entire life never to hit a girl, I was wondering if you could come over and do it for me."

Brief silence on the other end. "Is everything okay there?" she asked at last. "What's going on? You don't...sound like yourself."

"Maybe because I don't get this ticked off everyday. Are you coming?"

"I'm on my way," Edythe promised.

"Did you tell her?"

I jumped and realized Jules had snuck up behind me again.

I gave her my best death glare.

"Is she mad?" Jules stage-whispered, sounding delighted. She was leaning close enough I had no doubt Edythe could hear.

"Tell me what?" Edythe asked. She sounded almost supernaturally calm.

"You'll probably find out when you get here," I said, glaring. "She won't leave."

I could hear the car burning rubber down the road in the background. "I'm around the corner," she said, then the line disconnected.

"I don't want any fighting now," Charlie called from the other room. He still sounded amused.

Jules was standing at the edge of the kitchen now in the doorway, and she called back, grinning, "I'll wait for her to throw the first punch."

I heard the wheels of the car screech to a stop outside.

"Maybe you had better go," Charlie said, sounding a little more serious. "I really don't want there to be an incident."

"I'm going," Jules said cheerfully. She turned straight for the front door.

Edythe was standing outside in the drive, waiting for us. Considering the kinds of thoughts likely to be going through Jules's mind, I had no doubt Edythe already knew all about Jules's moment of opportunism. Edythe had her arms folded, but her expression was oddly calm.

"Hey," Jules called casually. "How's the weather been down at the crypt?"

Edythe didn't even look at her, as though she didn't exist. I crossed the drive to her, and she gently took my hand. "Why don't we go to my house for a little while?" Edythe suggested softly.

"Yeah," I said, raising my voice a little. "Let's." I threw over my shoulder, "Hey, why don't you make yourself useful and tell my dad we're going?"

"Sure, sure," Jules said, still grinning complacently.

Edythe slipped an arm around my back and started to turn me toward the car. However, she paused. "Julie?" she called quietly. When she spoke, her voice was so soft, even gentle, I almost didn't catch it.

"Yeah?" Jules said lazily.

Edythe continued softly, politely, "I'm not going to kill you now, because it would upset Beau."

I made a scoffing sound under my breath.

Edythe went on, "But if you ever do something like this against Beau's will again, I will hurt you. Even with your rapid healing, you would be surprised how painful even non-lethal injuries can be."

Jules's grin widened. "And what if it's not against his will?" she drawled. "What if he asks me to?"

I snorted and opened my mouth to give a withering reply, but Edythe spoke first.

"Then I have no objection," she said, still soft. "But next time you may want to consider waiting for him to say it, rather than leaving it up to your dubious interpretation of body language."

Jules laughed, casually leaning against the door frame, arms folded.

"One more thing," Edythe said, her face still perfectly composed, eyes staring straight ahead. "You should know I'm not taking anything for granted. I'll be fighting, too."

"Good," Jules said. "I like a good fight."

For the first time, Edythe turned her head to look Jules directly in the eye. Her expression was devoid of emotion. But then, the corner of her lip turned up in the faintest hint of a cold smile. "I didn't say I would fight fair."

Edythe took my hand and led me toward the car.

Jules muttered some reply in an undertone, then called after me in a cheerful voice, "See you, Beau! Thanks for coming over, I had a blast. I'll get some crowbars set out for next time."

"You wish," I muttered furiously under my breath as I slammed the car door behind me.

Edythe pulled away from my house and we drove in silence for a minute. At last, Edythe reached over and put a cool hand over mine, entwining our fingers. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Pissed off," I muttered, glaring out the windshield.

I half expected Edythe to gently point out that I had at least partially brought this on myself, but she only continued to gaze at me, her eyes filled with nothing but concern.

I sighed. "I'm not going back," I said at last, scowling. "Never again. She's crossed a line this time."

"If that's what you want," Edythe said gently. "But we'll talk about it again. Later, when you've had a chance to calm down a little."

Edythe paused, and she gazed at me for a moment, as though considering something. At last, she added hesitantly, "I'm sure...you've already come to this conclusion, but—she really was under the impression you were kissing her back. Otherwise, she wouldn't have kept going as she did. It wasn't her intent to take advantage of you."

I turned to look back at Edythe, wondering why she was telling me this. I looked away again, back toward the road. "Yeah," I muttered, "I kind of figured that out." I glared out the window. "I'm still pissed."

Edythe turned to look out the windshield as well, though I could still feel her watching me out of the corner of her eye. At last she said quietly, "I don't think she would try that again. Not without your direct say-so."

I had to look at Edythe again, and this time I couldn't keep the disbelief from my face. "Are you trying to convince me to go back there?" I asked incredulously. "I thought you said you were going to fight. Now you sound like you're trying to help her out."

My voice came out sharper and more accusatory than I meant. I didn't normally talk to Edythe this way, but my blood was still boiling over the episode with Jules, and I couldn't seem to keep my temper in check. And there was something about Edythe of all people seeming to try to take Jules's side that made me feel frustrated and guilty and disconcerted all at once.

"I mean," I muttered, looking away again. "A minute ago you were talking like you wanted to kill her."

"I do want to kill her," Edythe agreed patiently. "Or at least severely disfigure her, and perhaps leave her with one less limb or two." She added, "But she is your friend, Beau, and I would take no pleasure in seeing that friendship come to an end if it would cause you pain. Particularly if it came about due to some rather mundane misunderstanding on her part."

"I thought you said you were going to fight," I muttered again, not looking at her.

Edythe gazed at me, and smiled a little. "This is my way of fighting," she said gently. "All I want is for you to be happy, and if I can achieve that, then I will be happy as well."

I turned back to her. Her hand was still linked with mine, and I let out a sigh, rubbing her hard skin with my thumb. It was hard to stay in a bad mood when I was with Edythe.

"You don't actually have to fight for anything, you know," I said. "I've already chosen you. And that's not going to change."

Edythe's smile didn't change, but I thought I saw a flicker in her eyes. Some emotion I couldn't quite identify.

Edythe didn't reply, only squeezed my hand slightly, and turned to look back at the road.

I watched Edythe for a minute, concentrating on the shape of each of her perfect features, her small porcelain nose and lips, her golden eyes framed by dark lashes. I was around her so much, it was easy to forget what an amazing person she was—how kind, how understanding. I regretted reminding her of what she had said before about fighting. She shouldn't feel like she had to fight for anything. She shouldn't ever feel threatened by anyone, Jules included.

In a way, that was the most frustrating part about all this—that Edythe should be made to feel angry, or jealous, or insecure, when she was the only one for me. But then, most likely putting Edythe out had been a major part of Jules's aim. Jules was better at emotional manipulation than I'd given her credit for.

I settled back in my seat, glaring out the windshield again. "Options," I muttered darkly to myself. "I'll give her options."

* * *

A/N: Yeah, I know, there was no punching. (I just couldn't picture Beau punching Jules no matter how mad he was. In fact, now that I think of it, there are a lot of things Bella does I can't picture Beau doing. x3)

On a side note, this all-female wolf pack thing gets only more and more complicated as we go along... My general thoughts on that particular addition goes something like this:

I felt like, in light of Breaking Dawn (where we find out Leah's struggles, and worries over whether she can have children), the potential of the female wolves to have children or not had to be addressed. Honestly, it would make a lot of sense if the female wolves couldn't have children until they stopped phasing (there is a certain aspect of practicality in the arrangement of the original Twilight, of the men being the warriors who go out to fight and protect the tribe, and the women staying home), but I knew going that way would also have created a lot of complications in the legend of Taha Aki, which I wanted to keep at least a little similar to the original, at least in some respects. More importantly, however, I didn't want anything to interfere with the idea that, unlike Edythe, Jules is human. (That contrast is very striking in the original series, and I wanted to maintain that.)

Anyway, sorry again for the wait this time. (And a very Happy Birthday to the reviewer who left a message yesterday! I guess this is a day late, but better late than never, right? C; ) Thank you all so much for all your thoughts and comments, I'll be at work on the next one, and see you next time! :J

Posted 8/8/17


	16. Appreciation

A/N: Hey! Back again. C:

I've been a bit distracted the past few weeks, trying to gear up to finally finish an old project. (About twelve years since I started it, I think...it's hard to believe.) Fortunately since that time I think I've become a slightly more disciplined writer, so I'm hopeful that this Reimagined project won't take that long to finish. Fingers crossed.

Thanks so much to all of you for reading so far, your comments really make my day. Hope you enjoy, and see you at the end! C:

* * *

Chapter 15: Appreciation

"Great," I muttered to myself. "Just great."

The thief who had ransacked my room not two weeks ago had taken half my wardrobe. Normally that wouldn't be a problem, as I didn't usually pay a whole lot of attention to what I was wearing. Unfortunately, it turned out I was graduating today, and even I had enough fashion sense to know jeans and the ratty T-shirt I had on now were not going to cut it.

"Looking for something?"

I glanced up from the meager collection of clothes on my bed to see Archie leaning casually beside my window, as if he'd been there the whole time.

"Yo," he said with a grin. "Knock, knock."

I sighed. "You know, it wouldn't kill you to wait five seconds for me to get the front door. That's how normal people do it."

"Normal," Archie repeated, in mock horror. "I think I'd rather leave _normal_ for normal people, thanks." He added, "Besides, I'm just here for a second. Just dropping something off." He lightly tossed a white package, which landed neatly on my bed. "When I told Edy you might be wearing that pig shirt of yours to graduation, she gave me this to give to you."

"Oh," I said. "Wow, thanks." I opened the lid to find a pair of neatly pressed slacks and a collared shirt inside. I could tell immediately they were both designer, which normally I would have objected about, but I was desperate at the moment.

"Good to be useful for something," Archie muttered, frowning. "It gets under my skin, missing things left and right. I still can't believe I missed that thief, and now every time I try to get a look at the situation in Seattle...well, I feel sort of blind lately, to be honest." He rolled his eyes. "Being normal really sucks."

I blinked. I raised my eyes to stare at him.

For days now, there had been something needling me at the back of my mind. I kept feeling like there was something we were missing, a connection we ought to be drawing that was just out of reach. But as Archie put the two problems together in one thought it suddenly clicked into place.

"The same," I muttered, stunned. "They're the same. They've got to be."

Archie gave me a blank look. His eyes flickered once to the collared shirt and slacks beside me on the bed, then back to me, as though not sure if I had gone back to talking about the clothes.

"If you don't like them, you'll have to take it up with Edy," he said finally. "She picked them out."

I shook my head. "Not that. I mean, my visitor, what's happening in Seattle—it's got to be the same person behind it. Both times, they've seemed to know exactly how to get around the holes in your vision. We kept thinking it was a coincidence, or maybe your power was on the fritz—but I think the answer is simpler than that. This person or these people know how your power works, and they've found a way to get around it. They're either the same person, or they're working together."

Archie stared at me.

My thoughts raced ahead, trying to make sense of all the pieces. "Say—" I began. "Say whoever it was who took my stuff was partly doing it as a test. To see if he could get through. And then..."

It occurred to me suddenly, where this reasoning was leading. I felt a chill down my spine.

I continued in a low voice, "We thought they were taking my scent to prove they'd gotten through. But that never made sense. He took way too much stuff for that. So... what if there was another reason? What if he was actually taking my scent to the newborns in Seattle—so they'd be able to come back and find me?"

Archie had gone very still. He stared back at me, his eyes wide. One minute passed, then two, as he stood where he was, frozen.

At long last, he closed his eyes and slumped slightly, looking abruptly exhausted. "You know what?" he said. "I think you're right. I think that's exactly it." He shook his head. "Why, though? Why would they be after you?"

I let my gaze drop away from his. I didn't want to say his name—the vampire whose sole absorption for the past year had been to murder me in the most brutal way he could find. I knew that Archie had been specifically watching his decisions, and it was probably impossible—but I couldn't push away the instinct in the back of my mind that said otherwise.

However, I figured Archie would tell me I was being paranoid, and somehow, stupidly, I felt like saying it out loud might make it true. And the truth was, whatever the reason and whoever was responsible, there was one bit of relief to be had from this new revelation—I was the target. Not the Cullens. Not Edythe.

Instead I said, "Knowing what their target is has to help somehow."

"Maybe," Archie muttered, looking uncertain. He folded his arms and began pacing back and forth, frowning deeply in thought.

 _Thud, thud—_

I blinked, turning sharply as someone hammered loudly against my door. Archie didn't even react, still frowning and pacing.

"Ready yet, kid?" Charlie called through the door. "We're going to be late!" He sounded edgy. He didn't care for occasions like this, any more than I did.

"I know, just give me a second," I called back.

Charlie must have heard the panic in my voice, because he asked, "Are you okay? You aren't having a breakdown, are you?"

"No," I said, and sounded more like myself with annoyance. "I'll be downstairs in a bit, it's just going to take a minute."

I heard Charlie grumble something at my challenging tone, and heard the clump of his feet as he retreated back downstairs.

When I turned back, I saw Archie at the window.

"Gotta go," he said abruptly. "Right now."

I blinked. "Uh, okay. But why?"

"Edy's going to be here in a minute," he said shortly. "You might not have noticed this, but Edy has just a bit of a tendency to overreact to things like this."

"Right," I said. "Get going then." Edythe did have a bit of a tendency to overreact. In fact, she might just go completely ballistic—and the graduation ceremony didn't exactly seem like the best time or place for that.

In a heartbeat, Archie was gone through the open window, and I turned my attention to getting dressed. I barely saw the buttons as I did them up, and when I slung the loud polyester-yellow graduation robe over my arm and headed downstairs, my mind was still in a fog.

I met Charlie downstairs, and Edythe showed up just a few minutes later. It really wasn't enough time to calm down after my revelation, and Edythe eyed me with concern, but as we were riding to graduation in the cruiser with Charlie, she didn't have a chance to ask what was wrong—my dad had insisted I had to ride with him, given the occasion, and I'd agreed, granted he let me invite Edythe too. He'd acted a bit sulky about that, but hadn't tried to argue.

When we arrived at the school parking lot, we all got out, and Edythe was immediately at my side.

"Are you all right?" she murmured, taking my hand. "You look a little pale." She reached up to touch my forehead.

Before I could answer, Charlie casually sidled in between us, throwing an arm around my shoulders and turning his back to Edythe, effectively ending the conversation. Normally I would have been a bit peeved at my dad's usual deliberate rudeness, but at the moment I was relieved.

"So, graduating," Charlie said gruffly. "Excited?"

I shrugged under his arm. "Not really. Maybe it just hasn't hit me yet."

Charlie chuckled. "Delayed reaction. Don't worry, it will—when you're off to college and living on your own...paying your own bills, doing your own laundry..." He got a bit teary there at the end.

"I already do my own laundry," I pointed out. "And I kept track of the bills for years with Mom."

"That's true," Charlie admitted. "Well—maybe the party then. I'm glad Archie's throwing that thing, a celebration with all your old friends is just the thing to really make it feel real."

"Yeah," I muttered. "Forced socializing. Just what I need."

Charlie chuckled again at my expression.

Charlie had to leave us at the back door of the gym and go around to the main entrance with the rest of the parents. Once again I felt Edythe reach over and take my hand.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, too softly for any of the other students mulling around us to hear. She took my hand once again, and gazed up into my face with concern.

I thought I was a little calmer now, at least enough to trust myself to answer normally. I shrugged. "Just kind of nervous, I guess. Or maybe a lot nervous." It probably helped that it wasn't technically a lie.

Edythe seemed to accept this, and she squeezed my hand again as we went on inside.

It was nothing short of pure chaos as Mr. Cope from the front office and Ms. Varner the math teacher tried to coordinate and get everyone lined up alphabetically. Edythe was sent up toward the front—I noticed Archie wasn't there, and wondered if he was going to skip out on the entire thing—while I headed toward the back. I was behind Jeremy, and I was surprised when he punched me on the shoulder and began talking animatedly as though we were suddenly friends again. I did my best to listen, smiling and nodding occasionally as I shrugged on my canary yellow robes. It was probably just graduation nostalgia, but I was glad to end things on a good note with at least one person I'd fallen out with.

The ceremony seemed to race by, so fast I almost couldn't believe it. First we filed into the gym, and then the next thing I knew Erica, the valedictorian, was making her speech, all the expected platitudes about the future being ahead of us and this being a beginning rather than an end. Then she stepped down, and Principal Greene started calling names for students to receive their diplomas. Mr. Cope struggled to keep up, trying to make sure he got the right diploma to Ms. Greene as she handed them to each student.

At the last possible minute, Archie seemed to materialize out of nowhere, and he casually loped up onto the stage, his face a mask of concentration as he took his diploma and shook hands with Ms. Greene. Edythe was watching him with a slight frown as she followed him up onto the stage, though seemingly more in confusion than agitation.

When I heard Ms. Greene call my name, I stood up from my chair, and waited for the line ahead of me to move. I heard a burst of cheers at the back of the gym and I glanced back. I was startled to see Jules standing next to Charlie, a hand cupped around her mouth as she hollered encouragement. Beside her, I thought I could just make out the top of Bonnie's head. I managed to throw them an approximation of a smile.

Ms. Greene finished reading the last few names, then turned to hand out the last few diplomas. Her normally cool, stern features looked warmer than usual, and I thought I saw a glimmer of a proud tear in her eye.

"Congratulations, Mr. Stanley," she murmured as Jeremy took his diploma.

"Congratulations, Mr. Swan," she said, as she held out my diploma for me to take.

"Thanks," I mumbled back, as my hand closed around it.

And that was it.

I went to stand next to Jeremy with the assembled graduates. I heard some sniffling in the crowd around me, from a few people choked up with emotion.

Ms. Greene said a few last heartfelt words, and then a huge cheer went up from the people around me. Yellow hats rained down around me. I took mine off, too, though a beat too late, so I just let it fall.

Jeremy slapped me on the shoulder and we exchanged congratulations before he took off to talk to Logan. I picked out Becca and Allen from the quickly converging crowd, but they were surrounded by their families, and I decided I would try to catch them later. There would probably be time at the graduation party.

Instead I scanned the crowd, looking for Archie.

"Congratulations," murmured a voice in my ear, and I felt her wintry breath against my cheek. Edythe slipped an arm around my waist. Somehow, she made the neon-yellow robe look ready for the red carpet of a fashion runway.

"Um, thanks," I said, distracted. "You, too."

"Looking for someone?" she asked shrewdly. Apparently my searching wasn't quite as subtle as I meant it to be.

"Archie," I said. "Wasn't he here?"

"He... ran out as soon as he got his diploma." Edythe was frowning again, looking perplexed as her gaze flickered to stare at the back door of the gym.

"Huh," I said.

I'd never been a particularly good liar or good at covering things up, and apparently I couldn't even be trusted to utter single-syllable words, because Edythe's eyes immediately snapped to my face, suspicious.

"Yes," she said in a slow, deliberate voice. "He was acting strange...actually, he was translating the Battle Hymn of the Republic into Arabic. Then it was Korean sign language."

"Huh," I said again, trying my best to sound perplexed. "That's weird."

"Which," Edythe continued, "is the sort of thing he only does if, for some reason, he's trying to hide something from me."

"Wonder what that could be."

Edythe's eyes narrowed. "You _know!_ " she accused.

I considered lying, but there really wasn't much point. "Yeah," I admitted.

Edythe sighed deeply, then raised her eyebrows at me. "Well? What is it, then?"

I hesitated. "I think Archie kind of thought maybe it was better to wait until after the thing at your place."

Edythe folded her arms. "Do you want me to go track down Archie and torture him until he tells me?"

I paused, considering. "That depends. Do you think that would get this whole graduation-party thing canceled?"

Edythe rolled her eyes. "You might as well just tell me," she said. "I'm going to find out sooner or later. What exactly does Archie not want me to know?"

I hesitated a moment longer, then sighed. Edythe did have a right to know, and we wouldn't gain anything if we were keeping secrets all the time from each other. Besides, Archie was really the one throwing the party and the one most psyched up about it, and I figured it would be hard for him to concentrate if he was translating the Battle Hymn of the Republic into every obscure language he knew all night.

"I think he was just worried how you'd take it," I said. "It's something I just thought of, before we came." I added, "Just, you have to promise not to flip out or anything. Okay?"

Edythe eyed me warily. She nodded once.

I quickly outlined my reasoning in a hurried whisper. "See, I don't think it's a coincidence, all these things happening at once. It's one person—one mastermind behind it all, who knows how Archie's vision works and knows how to get around it. Sneaking into my room could have been some kind of test. But more than that, I think they wanted my scent to give to the newborns, so they'll be able to find me. I think I've been their real target all—all along..."

I faltered slightly. Edythe's face had gone white, and she stood where she was, frozen.

I gathered myself, and forced myself to go on. "But, this has to help somehow. Knowing what they're really after. And if I'm right, the good news is—they're not after all of you after all. You're in the clear."

Edythe stared up at me. Like Archie, she saw immediately my theory made all too much sense. She didn't move, her eyes wide with panic, her face a mask of horror.

I was starting to think now hadn't been the best time to tell her.

Just then, Charlie appeared seemingly out of nowhere. He somehow managed to slip in between me and Edythe, once again throwing an arm around my shoulders and turning to shut her out.

"Congratulations, kid!" he shouted over the noise of the crowd.

"Thanks," I answered, managing a tense smile. I was a bit preoccupied. Edythe's eyes were wild, and she had both hands half raised, as though ready to seize me by the collar and take off with me right then.

Edythe and Archie had played the threat of the newborns off as something they were confident they could take care of, in spite of Jessamine's gloomy, dire predictions. But now it was clear that had all been for my benefit—Archie had been right to try to keep this from Edythe as long as he could.

Charlie shook my shoulder with unusual affection, bringing my attention back to the present. "Julie and Bonnie had to take off—you see they were here? Really nice of them to come out."

"Yeah," I said, making an effort to look at him. "I saw them. Yeah...nice." I tried not to look at Edythe, who was still frozen in horrified shock. Fortunately Charlie had his back to her, and didn't see her expression.

Charlie must have noticed the distraction in my reply, because his tone was bracing as he said, "Don't worry, I know it's a lot to take in. But you've passed a milestone today, and it gets better from here, trust me."

"Um, yeah," I said, glad my dad was finding his own interpretation of my strange behavior, and that he was still ignoring Edythe—Especially as her expression had just gone from one of terrified paralysis to murder.

"So where do you want to go out for dinner?" Charlie asked. "The sky's the limit."

I shrugged vaguely. "I can cook."

Charlie shook his head. "Not today—today you get a break." His face suddenly lit up. "What do you think of going to the Lodge?"

Charlie's favorite restaurant wasn't really my thing, but I figured it was okay, if it would make him happy. I wasn't really hungry anyway.

"Sure," I said. "Let's go."

Charlie sighed and, and with obvious reluctance, half turned toward Edythe. Without really looking at her he asked, "You coming, too, Edythe?"

There was a pause, and Edythe barely managed to assume a more human expression as Charlie turned to look, to see why he hadn't gotten a response yet.

"No thank you," she said in a low voice, and though it was quiet, there was no mistaking the sudden edge of hostility.

Edythe was always flawlessly polite no matter how Charlie acted toward her, and he seemed taken aback by her demeanor. "Do you...have plans with your parents?" he asked, looking uncertain.

"Yes," she answered stiffly. "Please excuse me." She turned abruptly and stalked away through the dwindling crowd, moving just a bit too fast.

"Was it something I said?" Charlie asked, looking guilty.

I shook my head. "Probably just emotional...you know, it is graduation."

"You two aren't fighting, are you?" He sounded almost hopeful.

"No," I said, annoyed. "Come on, let's go."

The Lodge was crowded and noisy, filled with other graduates and their families. Charlie got prime rib and talked over the back of his seat to Taylor Crowley's parents, while I picked at a burger and stared morosely at a depressed-looking stuffed elk head.

I didn't turn around to look out the window, but I knew Edythe would be out there, watching me. I doubt she'd let me alone for a second after this.

When Charlie got his change back and put a tip on the table, I stood up, hoping he would catch the drift that it was time to go.

"The party doesn't start yet, does it?" he asked.

I shrugged. "I thought maybe I should help Archie get things set up. It is kind of my graduation party, too."

Charlie looked happy at that. "Good to see you taking ownership. I thought you were dreading it like the plague."

"I am," I said. "Doesn't mean I can't be responsible."

While Charlie turned around to bid a final goodnight and congratulate the other graduates, I headed out to wait by the cruiser.

It was almost dark in the parking lot, the gray blanket of clouds overhead making it impossible to tell if the sun had set or not. The air felt heavy, like it was about to rain. I sucked in a deep breath, trying to steady myself.

Something moved in the shadows and I jerked, then relaxed when I saw who it was.

Wordlessly Edythe took my hand and gripped it tightly, then briefly pressed her face to my chest, breathing in my scent. She pulled back a moment later, though she kept a firm hold on my hand.

"Feeling better now?" I asked, keeping my voice low so no one inside would hear.

Edythe shook her head. "Not particularly. But I think I have a handle on myself again."

"Sorry for springing it on you like that," I said. "Archie was right, I should have waited."

Edythe shook her head vigorously. "It's something I needed to know. It's so hard to believe we didn't make the connection before now—I suppose sometimes the most obvious answer can turn out to be the most difficult to see."

Her eyes had grown distant but they suddenly sharpened. "Charlie's on his way," she said in a low voice. "He's dropping you off at my house next—don't worry, I'll be right behind you the entire way."

I opened my mouth to reply, but she was suddenly gone, and I heard Charlie's voice call from the doorway of the restaurant, "Beau?"

"Yeah, I'm here."

Charlie shook his head and muttered something about impatience, then came on out. We both got into the car, and he started out.

We drove for a few minutes in silence before Charlie started off the conversation. "How do you feel?" he asked. "It's a lot to take in, I know."

I shrugged. "Okay, I guess."

Charlie chuckled and saw through my careful show of nonchalance. "Still dreading the thing at the Cullens?"

I nodded. "Maybe a bit." Though honestly, of the things I was dreading, that was probably the least threatening.

We went on a minute more in silence before Charlie suddenly sighed deeply. "You know, sometimes I think I haven't always done everything I should. As your father, I mean."

I blinked, surprised at this sudden turn in the conversation. I glanced at him, then turned my eyes carefully back the road. Not knowing quite what to say, I asked, "Like what?"

Charlie shrugged, hand still on the steering wheel. "For one thing, I didn't get you a graduation present."

"You dressed up and came to my graduation, didn't you? That was a pretty big sacrifice."

I was aiming for drawing out a laugh, but if anything, he seemed more gloomy than before.

"Some kids get their own cars when they graduate," he muttered.

"You already got me my truck back when I first came to Forks," I pointed out. "So in a way, you're already ahead of the game."

"Maybe a newer car, then," he muttered. "I got that one off a friend...It didn't cost that much..."

I wasn't used to having this kind of conversation with Charlie of all people, and the only thing I could think of to say was the truth. "Look, Dad, I appreciate the thought, but—seriously, I like my truck. I already have too many people in my life who'd force a new car on me if I let them without you starting up, too."

Charlie regarded me for a second, curiosity finally shaking him from his somber mood. "Has Edythe offered to buy you a new car?"

"I'm just saying if I'd wanted something particular for graduation, I would have told you," I said, evading the question.

Charlie seemed to take that as a yes and was silent a minute, digesting that.

When he finally turned to me, he was smiling, in an unusually fatherly way. "You know, I'm proud of you, kid."

I felt my ears going red. "What brought _that_ on all of a sudden?"

Maybe the air was still just thick with post-graduation emotionalism, but Charlie didn't seem embarrassed. "I know the Cullens are pretty well off and a lot of kids your age in your position might be tempted to take advantage of it. But maybe that's part of why she likes you so much. I'll give Edythe one thing—she has good taste."

I rolled my eyes. "I thought you were on Jules's sides."

Charlie grinned back. "No matter whose side I'm on, I can always appreciate anyone who appreciates my son."

It was a bit corny, and I was a little embarrassed now, especially since I knew Edythe was probably close enough that she could hear the conversation.

However, I let myself smile just a bit and muttered, "Thanks, Dad."

I could tell the meaningful, father-son post-graduation talk was over because we drove a minute in silence before Charlie said, "Where's the turnoff again? They really ought to clear out their drive, it's impossible to find in the dark."

"Just around the next bend, I think." I was just beginning to entertain the happy thought that maybe no one would be able to find the Cullens' house—hence, meaning no party—when we came around the bend and I saw the place where the turnoff was. My tentative hopes were instantly, cruelly dashed.

A giant light sign had been erected, the kind you usually only see at baseball games. The sign flashed the words _Welcome_ then switched to an arrow, pointing in the direction of the drive.

"Wow," Charlie said, mouth agape, impressed.

As we turned onto the drive, I saw lights had been hung from the trees at twenty-foot intervals—upon closer inspection, I saw the lights were Japanese-style lanterns. The incongruousness of the light sign and the Oriental lanterns seemed to be a calculated style of rebellion against typical norms of taste, and I could only stare incredulously as we continued on down the drive, and I saw lanterns strung all the way—all three miles.

"That kid never does things partway," Charlie muttered.

Charlie pulled up around front, and as I climbed out, he called after me, "Have fun."

"I'll try," I muttered. "You know, you could come if you want. Just to make sure things don't get too wild."

Charlie glanced once at the house, where soon most likely multi-colored lights would be flashing and loud music would be pumping from amplifiers. He shuddered once, then turned back to me. "No, I think I'll leave it to you this time. I trust you."

"Thanks a lot," I muttered.

He shot me a bit of a grin, then rolled up the window.

I watched him pull away, the cruiser moving a little faster than normal as he turned around and headed back up the drive, as though eager to be away. In a moment, the car had disappeared into the trees.

Sighing deeply, I turned and headed reluctantly up the porch steps, all the while wondering why, when I now knew there was an army of murderous vampires after me, I couldn't seem to find a little more perspective.

* * *

A/N: Well then, I guess a bit of a short chapter this time. I don't know if I would call this section of chapters uneventful exactly, but I feel like every time I read through Eclipse, I kind of feel that way. (I actually felt a bit off as far as the writing goes working on this chapter, and it could probably use quite a bit more work in some places, but I didn't want to take too long on these few chapters since I think this is a slower part of the story, or at least it feels that way to me.)

Thanks so much for reading! If you have a moment, let me know what you thought, and see you next time~

Posted 8/28/17


	17. Alliance

A/N: Hey there! C:

I went through this one last week hoping to get it posted, but there were still a couple things that I felt weren't quite working, so it ended up getting pushed back to this week. I'm hoping the next one won't give me so much trouble. X3

Hope you enjoy, and see you at the end! C:

* * *

Chapter 16: Alliance

"Beau?" said a soft voice from behind me.

I turned to see Edythe spring up lightly onto the porch. Her long bronze hair was windswept from her run, and I noticed she moved with unnaturally fluid grace—as though for the moment she was beyond trying look human. Her expression was calm, and yet, as she wordlessly pulled me into her chilly embrace, her body felt rigid with suppressed tension.

I blinked and was startled when I suddenly felt her icy lips against mine. One of her delicate hands gripped my shoulder, so tightly I felt the cold of her fingers through the material of my jacket. It didn't feel like a normal kiss—it felt desperate, tinged with fear and dread.

For just a moment, memories I hadn't thought of in a long time returned to me—the two of us parting, as Edythe prepared to go after Joss, that night after my eighteenth birthday, when Edythe had first made up her mind to leave me.

I felt a shiver down my spine. Seeing Edythe so shaken brought the reality of the situation home—the threat to my life and now to her entire family. Even if she wouldn't come out and say it directly, she was worried. Afraid.

I pulled away slightly, my gaze dropping from hers. For the next few hours, I had a graduation party to focus on, and I had to act normal. Thinking about all that now wouldn't help anything.

"Well, I guess we better go in," I said, forcing an unnatural note of joviality into my tone, even though I still didn't quite meet her eyes. "Might as well get the torture over with."

I started to turn back to head on inside, but I felt Edythe's hand tighten briefly around mine. I glanced back to find her gazing up at me with an earnest expression.

"Beau," she said softly. "I want you to know, I won't let anything happen to you. I promise."

I hesitated. "You know I'm not the only one in danger," I pointed out. " _I'm_ not the one I'm worried about."

"And why am I not surprised by that?" Edythe muttered, giving me that familiar look of mingled disapproval and incredulity.

Edythe drew a deep breath, then forced a smile. "Well then, are you ready to celebrate?"

I sighed like a martyr, but grudgingly turned back to the door, resigned.

"That's the spirit," she encouraged, laying a hand lightly on my arm.

I pushed open the door and had gotten a half step over the threshold before I froze. My hand slipped from the door, and the only thing that stopped it from swinging around and hitting me in the back was Edythe, who caught it and held it open, while I continued to stare in complete disbelief.

At last, I turned slowly to look down at Edythe. "Do you ever think maybe you have a crazy brother?" I wondered.

"I've spent years investigating potential psyche wards," she said seriously. "But none of them would take him."

"Ha ha, you're a riot." Archie appeared from behind a gigantic speaker taller than he was, and he was giving Edythe a look, like he wasn't sure whether to laugh or throw something at her.

"Sorry," Edythe said, not looking all that apologetic. "I guess that was low."

His eyes narrowed to slits, then suddenly his teeth flashed in a wide grin. "Well, I guess I can forgive you, if you tell me what you think of what I've done with the place." He spread his arms wide, to indicate the entirety of the Cullen's front room.

The interior of the house had been utterly transformed. I felt like I'd stepped into a high-end night club, with an assortment of expensive foods set out on tables, and strobe lights flickering across the room in an array of red and purple. To complete the image, Archie was decked out in a pair of black leather pants and matching jacket, which had had the sleeves shorn off.

"Impressive," Edythe said, taking another look around the room. Her eyes returned to the speakers. "What are you planning to do about music?"

Archie gestured to a pair of towering stacks of CDs nearby. "That's what I'm trying to decide. What do you think? Familiar and comforting, or should we work on educating Forks' taste in music?"

"Comforting," Edythe answered. "Educational usually backfires. The public's tastes are what they are."

Archie nodded seriously, then took one stack and began tossing them into a box.

Of course, Archie didn't need any help from a slow, awkward human, so mostly I just lounged around on the couch and watched Archie's blur as he shot from one task to the next. However, as Edythe wouldn't let me out of her sight for a second, she dragged me along when she went to find Carine and Jessamine to tell them about my theory of what the enemy's probable target was. They both seemed skeptical at first, especially Jessamine, but Edythe quickly brought them around.

I watched Jessamine, and she seemed tense. If anything, she seemed even more tense than Edythe. And as the quiet, urgent conversation progressed, and Jessamine explained that they had been unable to reach any of their other potential allies, it became increasingly clear to me that Jessamine felt that the odds were not in their favor. The battle would a gamble—and no one had to tell me just how high the stakes were.

I could feel my own tension mounting. It was all becoming too real. This was a war council, and soon they'd be marching off to battle. The thought of me sitting somewhere safe and useless while they all went off to fight was like a twisting hot knife in my stomach. I couldn't stand it—surely there had to be something I could do.

However, when at last the doorbell rang and the first guests arrived—a suburban-full of our school friends, Jeremy, McKayla, Taylor, Colleen, Aubrey, among a few others—everything was abruptly, almost surreally normal. Carine's and Earnest's smiles betrayed no hint of strain as they smiled warmly and welcomed them in. Archie had turned the music up, so loud the fast beat made the floor tremble.

I could tell my friends from school were impressed as they took in their surroundings, which Archie had made to look like some kind of chic rave. They'd all been curious about the mysterious and reclusive Cullens, and Archie had assured me to my dismay that curiosity alone would ensure everyone he invited came.

I forced my mind from the impending attack to play my part as one of the hosts—I greeted each of my friends as they came in, reminiscing a little about old school times with Jeremy and McKayla, and went to greet Allen and Becca when they arrived, and Erica and Kyle were just behind them. Even Logan was there, his usually disdainful eyes taking in the place with something like wonder.

I found I didn't have time to freak out, as I had to throw all my concentration into being upbeat and friendly. I noticed I seemed to be the primary target for congratulations, even though it was supposed to be an event for the three of us. Although Edythe and Archie had both gone a long way to bridging the unspoken wall between the Cullens and other ordinary people in the last year and a half I'd been here, people still seemed to find them intimidating. The dim lighting and flashes of red and purple playing off their slightly inhuman skin didn't help.

In the end, I considered the thing a success. People were a bit edgy being around the Cullens, but I rather suspected that might have just added to the thrill and mystique. The food disappeared so fast I figured that must have been good, and though it looked like the entire senior class along with quite a few of the juniors were there, the room never felt overcrowded or claustrophobic. Bodies swayed to the beat that trembled under the soles of their feet, the atmosphere buzzing with excitement, but never wild or out of control.

In fact, the whole thing wasn't so bad as I'd expected. Maybe all that dread had somehow prepared me for it. The casual chatting and mingling as I moved from one person to another came more easily than usual, and the people I spoke to, for their part, seemed delighted with the whole thing and easy enough to please. Archie was grinning with obvious triumph.

I circled around the room, going from one group to the next. The entire time Edythe stuck to me like glue, clearly having no intention of leaving me alone. Consequently, my suspicions were immediately aroused when Edythe abruptly slipped her arm out of mine, and pulled slightly away from me.

"You stay here and keep talking," she murmured in my ear. "I'll be right back."

I wanted to ask her what was up, but Jeremy was in the middle of saying something and the most I could do was watch her out of the corner of my eye as she gracefully slipped away through the crowd, without seeming to come into contact with any of the close-packed bodies.

"You think so, right?" Jeremy prompted.

I blinked, caught off guard. "Uh, yeah," I said distractedly. "Definitely."

"Right?" Jeremy said enthusiastically. "This summer, all the guys. I was thinking we all could..."

I was barely listening as I surreptitiously followed Edythe's progress to the kitchen entrance. I noticed another figure standing there, but it was too dark to make out who it was immediately. However, as I squinted, a red light flashed across Edythe's back, and I saw the red light reflected off Archie's sleeveless leather jacket. For a fraction of a second, I saw his face, and I knew that look.

"Give me a minute, Jer," I murmured, and without looking to see his reaction, I turned and headed straight toward the kitchen doorway, weaving and ducking to find my way through the dancers.

By the time I got there, Edythe was already gone, but Archie was still there. The blank, glassy-eyed look I'd seen a moment before was gone, but his face was white, bleak. He was gripping the door frame to the kitchen as though he needed support.

"What?" I said urgently. "What did you see?"

Archie didn't look at me, instead staring away. I followed his gaze to see Edythe, standing on the far side of the room. Their eyes met briefly, and Edythe's face was flat, devoid of emotion. Without so much as a nod, she turned and disappeared into the shadows under the stairs.

I opened my mouth to repeat my question again—more insistently—but just then, the doorbell rang.

Archie looked startled for a second, before his expression turned to a scowl.

"Oh, that's just what we need," he grumbled. "Well, the wolves are officially in the house. I don't remember putting them on the guest list." He raised an accusing eyebrow at me.

"I added them," I admitted. Not that I'd really imagined she would ever come here, of all places.

"Well, just go and _un_ -add them, then," he said. "We don't have time for this. I've got to go talk to Carine."

"Wait—" I began, but he was already gone.

This was it, I was sure of it. The vision Archie had been waiting for. I had to know what was happening.

Gritting my teeth with frustration, I turned my back on the door and the insistent doorbell. I scanned the crowd, looking for where Archie had gone. Of course I didn't see him, so I turned in the direction of the stairs.

"Hey, Beau!"

Somehow, Jules's voice carried over the crowd and the pounding of the music, and I couldn't stop myself automatically glancing back at the sound of my name. I grimaced.

Jules, having let herself in, wasn't alone—she was flanked on either side by Quil and Emma. The two of them were both absolutely rigid, eyes darting about the room like they expected a swarm of bats to swoop down on them at any moment. Emma stayed back, remaining in the open doorway and looking ready to bolt any second. Quil, by contrast, was bent forward slightly, shoulders squared, like a pit bull ready to charge.

Jules alone seemed relatively relaxed, grinning and waving at me, though I noticed her nose was wrinkled slightly.

I curtly waved back once, then ducked through the crowd, keeping my eyes peeled for Archie.

Before I had time to process or see quite how she did it, Jules was suddenly beside me. She caught me by the arm and dragged me back toward the shadow by the kitchen, pointedly ignoring my attempts to pull free.

"Is that how you treat all your guests?" she wanted to know. "Especially ones you specifically invited."

"After a couple days ago, your name was crossed off the guest list," I answered shortly, trying unsuccessfully to pry her fingers off my arm.

"Aw, come on," she said. She finally let go of me, and fixed me with a pleading expression. "Okay, I admit it, I stepped over the line. I guess I'd convinced myself that really you kind of secretly wanted me to, but—seriously, sorry. I mean it. Forgive me?"

I wasn't really looking at her, my eyes still looking for Archie. He'd probably found Carine already and were discussing whatever Archie had seen as we spoke. If I was going to find out what it was, I would have to hurry.

"Look, let's talk about this later, I'm kind of in a rush right now."

Jules frowned. "But I brought you a graduation present."

I shook my head impatiently. "Later, okay?" My eyes still scanned the room for Archie.

"Okay," Jules said, in a very different voice. She sounded subdued, almost hurt.

I paused, and this time her tone forced me to finally turn back to her. Her gaze had dropped, and she wasn't looking at me.

I let out a frustrated sigh and grumbled a little. I didn't like to make her feel bad.

"Yeah, I forgive you," I said reluctantly. When she still didn't look up, I added, "And if you have to give me something, hurry up and give it to me."

Jules brightened. "I made it myself," she said, reaching into the pocket of her jeans. She pulled out a small pouch of loose-woven, multicolored fabric, held shut by a leather drawstring. She handed it to me.

"Wow," I said, trying to make my voice enthusiastic. "That's really..."

Jules rolled her eyes. "The present is _inside_ , Beau."

"Oh."

I fumbled with the drawstring for a few seconds, before Jules finally took pity on me and took it, opening the bag with one deft pull of the right cord. I held out my hand for the bag, but instead of giving it back to me, she turned the bag over and shook it lightly, until something tumbled out onto my palm.

I held it up between my fingers and I saw it appeared to be a leather bracelet, the kind you could adjust the size by pulling the strings, and there was a feather attached to a string of beads hanging from it. There was something else, too.

I squinted and looked closer, and saw a small wooden figurine hanging beside the feather. I realized it was a detailed carving of a wolf, made of a red-brown wood that matched the color of her skin, and the russet color of her fur when she phased.

I held it up to eye level to get a better look. "Wow," I marveled, really meaning it this time. "Did you really..."

"Yeah, I carved it," she said, shrugging. "It's something a lot of the tribe learns how to do. Bonnie's been teaching me since I was a kid."

"Wow," I said again, turning the wolf around in my fingers, viewing it from all angles. "This is amazing. You're good, Jules."

"You aren't going to complain I'm giving you jewelry?" she asked, grinning.

"No way," I said. I pointed to the leather cord. "Obviously, this is man jewelry. And I like homemade stuff."

Jules's grin widened. "I know." Then her expression clouded and she glanced away. "Well, I figured I should give you something to remember me once in awhile later. You know—out of sight, out of mind."

I decided to ignore the bitterness in her tone, and I concentrated on trying to get it put on. I put it on my left wrist, thinking my right hand might be more dexterous in getting it tightened. However, after a minute trying to figure out which string to pull, Jules rolled her eyes and reached forward, again tightening it to the perfect size with one easy move.

I lifted my wrist up to look at it. "Thanks a lot, Jules. I mean it, this is awesome."

"You'll really wear it?" she asked.

"Course I will."

Jules really smiled then—the brilliant, happy smile of the old Jules, that held no tinge of anger or resentment.

I found myself grinning back for a second—then I suddenly remembered reality and my eyes flickered reflexively around the room, searching out some sign of Edythe or Archie.

"What's wrong?" she asked, frowning. "You're acting weird." She added suspiciously, "Is something going on?"

I hesitated a beat too long, then quickly shook my head. "No—no, nothing, don't worry. Anyway, gotta run, but thanks so much for the present, it's awesome."

I started to turn, intent on pushing my way through the crowd, but Jules sighed and casually reached out and snagged me by the wrist.

"When are you going to figure out you really suck at lying?" she asked. "Whatever it is, you should tell us. We need to know these things as much as they do."

I hesitated a second again, but I realized she was right. "Honestly, Jules, I'm not sure myself right now. I need to find Archie."

Understanding lit her eyes. "The little dude _saw_ something?"

I nodded. "But I didn't get a chance to ask him anything yet."

"Is this related to that bloodsucker that was in your room?" she asked, pitching her voice below the thrum of the music.

I paused. "It's kind of related."

Jules read my expression and her eyes widened slightly. "You know something else," she said. It was a statement, not a question.

Jules always saw through my lies, so I admitted, "Yeah."

Jules stared back at me for a second, then turned to catch Emma and Quil's eyes, where they still lingered by the doorway, looking jumpy and uncomfortable. However, when they caught her expression, they immediately began to wade through the crowd, weaving and slipping through impossible gaps without without ever seeming to come into contact with anyone, before in a moment they were standing on either side of Jules.

In spite of Emma's willowy form and Quil's small, slender one, I could see the muscles of their arms through their jackets, and with their matching glares, I couldn't help but think if Jules was the leader of her own gang, these two could be her enforcers. As though to reinforce the image, the two of them folded their arms across their chests at exactly the same moment.

Jules must have sensed I was still reluctant to talk, at least here and now, and I could tell this was her way of telling me she wasn't going to let me go.

"Okay, now spill," she demanded, jabbing a finger in my chest. "What's really going on?"

I shook my head, eyes automatically scanning the crowd again. "I don't really know everything yet...Like I said, I need to talk to Archie."

Jules's expression was unyielding. "We'll take what you _do_ know then."

I hesitated. My gaze went back to the crowd, and this time I was relieved when I caught sight of Archie, slowly making his way back down the stairs. His expression was troubled...maybe even afraid.

I felt myself tense for a second, then forced myself to breathe.

"Archie," I muttered. My quiet voice was drowned out by the thudding base, but I knew he would hear me anyway.

Sure enough, his eyes flickered immediately to meet mine. For just a moment, they were devoid of emotion—dead. Then his gaze shifted and he took in the werewolves, whose gazes had all followed mine to stare at him. His expression turned to a frown.

In a moment, he was down the stairs and standing beside me, facing the trio of wolves.

Jules stood her ground, but Emma and Quil both backed up a step, eying Archie with uneasy expressions.

Archie gave them a look, then put a hand on my shoulder. "Got to talk to you, man," he muttered in my ear.

I tried to look apologetic as Archie turned to steer me toward the stairs, though I kept my eyes down.

An arm suddenly shot out in front of us, palm slamming into the wall inches from Archie's face, blocking our way.

"I don't think so," Jules whispered menacingly.

Jules was taller than Archie, and now she used the few inches of height to tower over him. She tilted her head back, so she was looking down at him further, leaning to one side in a deliberately careless way, that reminded me just a bit of a tough guy in a gangster film. She continued, "I think you're going to stay here, and fill us in on what's going on."

Before Archie could answer, Jessamine appeared quite literally out of nowhere. One second it was just Archie and me, standing on one side of Jules's arm, the next, Jessamine was standing on the opposite side. Her normally even, stoic expression was twisted in a feral snarl so unnerving that Jules straightened and withdrew her arm without so much as a sarcastic remark.

However, Jules wasn't about to back down. "We have a right to know," she said evenly, her hard eyes still focused on Archie.

Jessamine took a sideways step, so in an instant she was standing in front of Archie was a shield, lips still curled back from her teeth in an expression that wasn't even faintly human. All three werewolves were tense, readying themselves.

I was pale. If a fight broke out here...

"Hey," I said, my voice higher than usual. "Let's everybody calm down—"

Nobody seemed to notice me. However, Archie's brow furrowed and he looked thoughtful. "It's okay, Jess. Maybe they're right."

He deliberately turned toward me and said, as though the wolves weren't there, "The decision's been made."

I stared at him for a second. I forced myself to swallow.

"So..." I began, trying to keep it calm as I interpreted what he was trying to say. "That's it? You're all going to Seattle?"

Archie's expression didn't change. "No, not us."

I stared at him, then it hit me with the force of a ten-ton truck. "They're coming here," I whispered.

Archie nodded grimly. I was vaguely aware of the three werewolves watching us closely, watching the emotions playing across our faces. Their clenched fists were trembling slightly.

"To Forks," I said, so low I barely heard myself. I felt light-headed, I couldn't think. "Why...? I mean, did you see if it was..."

Archie knew what I was asking. He nodded once. "What you said before—it looks like you hit it dead on. They had your clothes."

I could barely breathe.

Jessamine shot a dark look at the wolves, obviously displeased with including them in sensitive military discussions, but she spoke up. "We can't let them come that far. There are not enough of us to protect the town."

Archie looked at her, and his expression was more serious than I had ever seen it—hopeless.

"I know," he said in a low voice. "But it doesn't matter where we stop them...there won't be enough of us to get them all. Not before some of them come here to search."

The boisterous babble of the party seemed to fade, and at his words I felt as though my head were suddenly underwater. My eyes turned, as though I were in a dream, to the people there. My friends, my neighbors, even the people I didn't like so well...all were laughing and chatting as they swayed to the music. Oblivious to the fact they may soon be about to face horror, danger, perhaps death. And all because of me.

My mouth was dry. "Archie," I said, voice hoarse as my hand clenched his arm like a vice. "Archie, I've got to do something. I've got to get out of here. They can't follow me _here_..."

Archie shook his head. "These aren't trackers we're dealing with. Even if you left, they'd still come looking here first."

I didn't know what to say. However, an image was playing in my mind. An image of one of the old Quileute legends, the husband of Taha Aki, as he ran out to meet the enemy, dagger in hand...

"This isn't just about your family anymore," I said quietly, firmly. "If there's no other option, we may have to consider...giving them what they're looking for."

Archie stared at me, his expression a mix of horror, and growing anger. "Listen, dude, do you have any idea how Edy—"

I cut across him. "There's too much at stake, Edythe will have to see that. If it's between me and the people of this town, then—"

"Hold it," Jules cut in, in a low, forceful voice. I'd almost forgotten she was there. "What is it? What's coming after Beau?"

Archie turned his eyes to Jules. "Our kind," he said evenly. "Lots of them."

Her normally russet skin was pale, but she kept her voice calm. "Why?"

Archie shook his head. "We don't know that yet."

Jules was silent for a long moment. Then her mouth suddenly, incredibly, spread into a grim, fierce smile.

"Well," she said, with careless arrogance. "If there's too many for _you_...It just so happens I know a few people who know a thing or two about taking down bloodsuckers. I'd ask you to get down and beg—but if we get our teeth in a few leeches, that would be payment enough."

Archie stared at her for a second, then suddenly he was grinning as broadly as Jules. His features were suddenly alive with exultation, and the despair was gone. "You know, I guess even dogs have to have good ideas once in a while. Course, the entire future just completely disappeared, but that's fine by me."

"We'll have to work together," Jules said. "The others won't like it, but...well, it is our job to protect the town. That means doing whatever we have to do—Sam won't be able to argue with that."

Archie and Jules were leaning toward each other, identical lights of excitement in their eyes, noses both wrinkled against the smell.

I watched them. I didn't know what to feel—two different emotions seemed to be warring inside me. On the one hand, I'd always wanted both my families to learn to get along, maybe work together. And rationally, I knew this was the solution we had all failed to think of. With seven vampires on our side Jessamine had believed it would be about even in a fight, factoring in their abilities and experience, but six powerful, fast werewolves would tip the balance in our favor. And yet...

I felt something hard and icy drop into my stomach at the thought of Jules and these other girls—so young, still technically human—fighting monsters with wild, crimson eyes, and hard, lightning fast bodies.

"How many?" Quil asked, her tone eager, overcoming her aversion to the vampires in her sudden excitement.

Archie shrugged. "It changes. Twenty-one today, but it might go down by a few by the time they get here."

"Why's that?" Jules asked.

Archie shook his head, eyes suddenly darting around the room. "There's a lot to explain, and here probably isn't the place. We'll talk later."

"Tonight," Jessamine added. "We were already planning a strategic meeting. Three o'clock. There are specific ways that are the most efficient for fighting them, which I can demonstrate for you." Though Jessamine's demeanor was more composed than Archie's, I could see the eagerness in her eyes, too.

Jules didn't look happy at the thought of being taught by vampires, but she nodded. "Where do you want us?"

"Ten miles due north of the Hoh Forest ranger station. Come from the west, and you'll be able to follow our scent in."

Jules nodded again, all business. "We'll be there."

As one, all three turned for the door, I didn't doubt to go inform Samantha of this development.

Just as Jules passed by me, before I consciously knew what I was doing, I reached out and grabbed her by the arm.

She turned back to look at me.

I'm not sure what my expression looked like. Wild, probably, almost panicked. My mouth was slightly open, as though to say something, but nothing would come out.

Jules studied me for a second, then snorted.

"What's with that look?" she asked. "A second ago you were all calm and talking about how you were going to walk out and let yourself get eaten—and totally betray your psycho vampire girlfriend. Now you look like you're about ready to freak out."

Part of that distracted me. I frowned. "Betray her? I wasn't going to betray anybody."

Jules rolled her eyes. "If she had a say, she wouldn't let you, even if she had to tie you up. So if you did manage to do it somehow, I'd call that a betrayal. Course, I wouldn't let you go either."

Jules sighed and shook her head. "Anyway, you should be happy. We're saving all your bloodsuckers' skins, and we're saving the town."

"I wouldn't go that far," Archie muttered. "Without us, you wouldn't be in too good a situation either."

"Without you, Beau wouldn't have half the vampires in the country gunning for him," she answered smartly.

I still hadn't let go of Jules's arm, and the desperation hadn't left my eyes.

Jules gently twisted out of my grip, but reached back to briefly squeeze my hand. "It'll be fine," she said in a low voice, smiling. "It _would_ have been a disaster, but with us here, it'll be nothing. This is what we do—we're protectors."

I watched helplessly as she turned away from me, and made her way back through the crowd to catch up with Emma and Quil. My eyes never moved from her back, which was straight and sure, but at the moment, looked far too small for the burden she had just willingly taken.

* * *

A/N: Not a whole lot that was really different this chapter, which is probably why it gave me such trouble. (I've found sometimes it's the chapters that are most similar to the original source material that are the hardest to get into from a writing standpoint. And it seems like oftentimes I'll look over an old rough draft and see where I tried to add something different, but end up having to take it out because it just doesn't fit.) Ah well, it's the usual struggles of writing I guess.

Thank you all so much for reading and for all your comments, it means a lot. (I hope to be a bit quicker on the draw with the next chapter.) If you have a moment, let me know what you thought, and see you next time! C:

Posted 9/26/17


	18. Instruction

A/N: Back again! (And on time this week, too.)

Thank you once again for reading so far, and for all your thoughts! Hope you enjoy, and see you at the end! C:

* * *

Chapter 17: Instruction

When the graduation party finally came to an end—the last bit seemed at least five times as long as the first few hours—Edythe drove me home. Like Archie and Jessamine, she seemed almost jubilant, as did the rest of the Cullens.

I was more subdued. While everyone else was euphoric and seemed to feel like celebrating, I could only quietly brood on the evening's turn of events and what it would mean. I could feel the new fear creeping into my mind, slowly taking hold.

Jules and the rest of her werewolf sisters would be in this fight. Fighting for me—because if I just gave myself up, Forks wouldn't have to be in danger.

I knew Jules and the others were strong, and they knew how to fight. Not so long ago, they'd sent Lauren running and torn her to shreds like it was nothing. Yet when it came down to it, they were still inexperienced teenage girls, who only had real experience fighting one lone vampire, when they had the advantage of numbers. However, even combining forces with the Cullens, they would still be outnumbered.

I might have been able to take a little consolation in Edythe's confidence—I could tell this time it was real, true confidence, not a facade to keep me calm—except for one thing.

They all seemed confident none of the Cullens would be hurt, and maybe that would be true, with the wolves' help. But the fact was, for as good and kind as I knew the Cullens to be, I also knew the feud was such that they didn't much care about the _dogs_ of the Quileute tribe. The Cullens were all experienced fighters, who had dealt with other vampires before—Jessamine especially knew what to expect with newborns. If someone were to get hurt in this fight, even killed, it would be the ones without that experience. And Jules and the others were just too young and reckless to realize their own peril.

If only I could do something to stop this from happening. Do what I needed to do...But as my eyes lifted to Edythe, sitting in the driver's seat, looking perfectly relaxed, even happy, I knew she would never let me.

"I'm going with you tonight," I said. I tried to keep my voice even, certain.

"You really need your sleep," Edythe said softly. "And besides, we've never done this before. Things might get...volatile. I don't want to risk seeing you get caught in the middle."

Now I was definitely determined to be there.

"You're all going, aren't you?" I said. "Are you going to leave me behind, alone? Anyway, if you won't take me, I can always call Jules. I know she will."

Edythe's eyes tightened slightly, and I knew that last part was a low blow. But I didn't care—no way was I going to be left out of it.

At last, Edythe sighed, and I knew she was resigning herself.

Inside my house, I found my my dad had fallen asleep on the couch in the front room, the television still going, though it was hard to hear over the sound of his snores.

I had to shake him a few times and talk loudly to wake him up—I was afraid he would throw out his back stepping like that—and managed to get him up to bed, where he collapsed on top of the covers still fully dressed, and immediately started snoring again.

I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth and change into some jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. Then I headed back to my room, where Edythe was sitting in the rocking chair, waiting for me. Her eyes were watching me with concern.

I was starting to feel a bit spent, and I worried if I laid down on my bed, I might fall asleep and Edythe would sneak off without me—I wouldn't put it past her—so I stretched out a hand for hers, and when she took it, I led her over to the bed. She let me wrap my arms around her and pull her against my chest. However, after a minute when I started to shiver, she sighed and reached over to pull the quilt between us as a barrier.

She turned in my arms, then gazed up into my face. Her golden eyes were worried, and she reached up with a finger to stroke my cheek soothingly.

"I wish you would relax," she said softly. "This is going to work, Beau. Everything's going to be all right."

I tensed and looked away. I felt the heat creeping up my neck—anger. "What's going to happen to Jules and the others?" I muttered.

Edythe smiled. "They are going to have the time of their lives doing what they were born to do. Listen, Beau—it's going to be _easy_. We'll take them completely by surprise. These neophytes probably don't even know werewolves exist. I've also seen in Jessamine's mind how they act in a group, and I think the pack's hunting techniques will work flawlessly against them. Divided and confused...honestly, there probably won't be enough for the rest of us to do. Someone may be forced to sit out." She laughed a little.

I looked down at her evenly for a moment. "You really think so?" I asked seriously.

Edythe's steady gaze never broke from mine. "There's always some danger in a battle, Beau, but yes. These odds are very good."

I was quiet for a moment, my brow furrowing. Then I said suddenly, "If I ask you something, would you tell me the truth?"

Edythe's eyes were abruptly wary. "What is it?"

I glanced away briefly, then forced myself to look her right in the eye again. "None of you really care what happens to the wolves, do you?"

Edythe paused, gazing up into my face. I could see her weighing her response carefully.

At last she said, "The wolves have always been our enemies. Enmity is deeply ingrained. And for most of our family, the safety of our own is going to come first. Jessamine is certainly more concerned with keeping Archie and the rest of us safe, and I doubt she'd shed much of a tear, so to speak, if some of the wolves fell in the fight."

I didn't say anything. I was barely breathing.

"That being said," Edythe continued earnestly, "Carine made the treaty in the first place because she hates seeing others hurt, and she would be deeply pained to see any of them lost. And I...I would hate to see any of them hurt because I know how much it would hurt you."

I looked down into her face for a minute, then I nodded slowly once.

"That's the truth," Edythe said. "And so there's really nothing to worry about. If I thought there was much chance of those dogs—I mean, the wolves—getting themselves into real danger, I'd be more concerned. But they're a lot more competent then I think you seem to realize, Beau. So...try to relax. It's all going to work out."

I nodded again, wrapping my arms more securely around her and resting my chin on the top of her head. I found I did a feel a little calmer. And yet...Edythe's words, _There's always some danger in a battle,_ came back to me, and stuck there in my mind like bits of tar.

Maybe the odds weren't so bad—but once they all got out there, anything could happen. It was still dangerous. Even Edythe, the fastest in the Cullen family, and potentially the most difficult to defeat because she could never be taken by surprise—even she might get hurt if the circumstances came together just wrong. Her ability might even make her inclined to overexert herself. If she saw one of her family was in danger, she would thoughtlessly throw herself in the way, I knew she would. And if that happened, very possibly, she would...

I felt suddenly cold all over, and it had nothing to do with Edythe's icy form in my arms, whose chill I could still feel even though the quilt. No. I couldn't even let myself think the thought.

My thoughts raced in my head, going in circles at dizzying speeds, and kept me from falling asleep. I didn't realize how much time had passed until I felt Edythe stand and tug me gently to my feet beside her.

"You can still stay and sleep," she said with a smile. "It's not too late. It'll probably be boring anyway."

I redoubled my grip on her hand. "Yeah, right."

"Worth a try," she murmured, sighing, then turned away from me so I could climb onto her back. Once I had my arms wrapped securely around her waist, and she had a hold of my legs, she launched herself from my open window.

She raced through the black, quiet forest, the trees so dark around us the only indication of just how fast we were going was the air whipping against my face, blowing back my hair.

When we reached the large open field, Edythe slowed, and as my eyes finally adjusted, I could see her family congregated out there, talking casually, relaxed. I heard Eleanor's loud laugh drift back to us. I scanned the space, wondering why it looked so familiar—then I realized when I'd seen it before.

It was the baseball clearing. The one where, a year before, Edythe had brought me to watch her family play baseball, but were interrupted when Joss, Victor, and Lauren had showed up. Things had started out fairly cordial, then quickly went south.

Thinking of Victor again made me shiver. However, at the thought I blinked, then glanced down at Edythe.

"Hey," I said. "You know, I've been thinking."

Edythe smiled. "Have you?"

I hesitated.

Edythe sighed, a touch exasperated. "If you want me to know what it is, I'm afraid you'll have to tell me."

I paused. "See, Edythe, the thing is." I shook my head, then turned my eyes to look down at her. "We know there are newborns coming to get me...you thought it might be the Volturi and Sulpicia. But if it's not her, who's the other most likely suspect? Who do we know who's been wanting me dead?"

Edythe regarded me silently for a moment. "Victor?" she said at last.

I nodded. "I think he might be behind this conspiracy. When you were trying to track him last year...did you go south, by any chance?"

Edythe seemed to understand what I was driving at. "Yes," she said. "In fact, I spent some time in Texas. Are you saying...you think when Victor went there, he might have picked up an idea or two?"

I nodded again. "Yeah. But unlike Miguel and Jessamine, Victor has no clue what he's doing. It's just that a newborn army was his only way to get at you—at me."

Edythe shook her head. "But how would you explain Victor knowing how Archie's power works? Only Sulpicia would know that."

"But Tanvir and your other friends know how Archie's power works, don't they?" I pointed out. "And Lauren spent months with them. Ivan could have told her anything. And Lauren obviously didn't have a problem doing Victor a favor or two. Whatever she learned from Ivan, she could have passed along."

Edythe considered for a long moment.

"Hmm," she said at last. "Well, I suppose the vampire in your room could be a newborn Victor created, as it wasn't him himself—but it would have to have been more mature than the others, or it wouldn't have left Charlie alive."

She considered a moment more. "Well, I'm still leaning toward Sulpicia and the Volturi. But—I _could_ see where something like this would suit Victor perfectly. He could create a newborn army to send barreling at us, and even though he would probably expect us to win in the end, he could count on the army to whittle down our numbers. Maybe he would even want us to destroy them all, and be ready to kill any of the survivors himself anyway, in order to eliminate all who could bear witness against him to the Volturi. It would be quite an ingenious plan—for him, anyway."

Edythe was lost in thought for a long minute, then she blinked and came back to reality. "Perhaps," she said. "It's certainly possible. But for now, until we can find out for certain, we will have to be prepared for anything."

Edythe gazed out into the dark forest, and something subtly changed in her expression. Her golden eyes seemed to burn.

" _Victor,"_ she said, almost to herself, spitting the name with such intensity and loathing that it made me glance down at her, startled.

She continued in a velvet murmur, "What I wouldn't give to run into him again. To have his _neck_ between my hands, so that I might finally put an end to him myself...Along with all others who ever threatened you."

The dark, hard look sent a shiver down my spine. But more than that, the idea of Edythe fighting Victor—or being anywhere near Victor—made me feel sick with dread.

We finally reached the others and came to a stop. Everyone seemed to be in a fairly good mood—all except Archie, who did not seem to be his usual annoyingly chipper self. Instead, he was standing with his arms folded, his expression brooding as he watched Jessamine, who was stretching out her arms slowly, as though warming up for a sport.

I noticed Jessamine was dressed a little differently than usual. Like all the Cullens, she always dressed in pale, muted colors, nondescript white shirts or light blue jeans, the kind of things that didn't draw much attention. However, right now she was dressed entirely in black. It could have almost passed as a uniform of some kind, except that the shirt was sleeveless, and I knew if I had vampire sight—or maybe wolf sight—the scars on her arms and neck would be especially visible. She was standing with a different posture than usual, too. Back straight, head held high and straight with almost a military-style discipline—She was...intimidating. That was the only word for it. Apparently she was getting into her role as battle instructor.

However, though Archie was looking in her direction, his gaze didn't seem really focused on her.

I glanced at him again, then back at Edythe. I muttered in a low voice, "Everything okay? Archie looks kind of...not happy about something."

Edythe shrugged and laughed a little. "Don't worry about him. The wolves are on their way, so he's blind at the moment. He doesn't know what's going to happen. It makes him edgy."

Archie was standing furthest from us, but as soon as Edythe spoke, he rolled his eyes in our direction, then stuck his tongue out at her. Edythe only smiled back.

"Hey there, Beau-man," Eleanor called out to me. "You going to be doing some sparring, too?"

"Maybe," I said with a nonchalant shrug.

Edythe scowled at her. "Eleanor," she grumbled. "Don't give him ideas."

Carine turned to Edythe. "How close are our guests to arriving?"

Edythe had to concentrate for a moment. "I'd say a minute and a half." She sighed. "But it looks like I'll be doing the translating tonight. They don't feel safe enough to use their human forms, so they're all coming as wolves."

Carine nodded. "More than understandable. This is very difficult for them."

This brought me up short. They were all coming as wolves. As much as Jules and I talked about it and even joked around about it, I'd only seen Jules in her wolf form twice. Once in the meadow with Lauren, and once more by the road when Paula had lost it. Both times had left me shaking on the ground, nearly incapacitated with panic. Coming face-to-face with a snarling wolf, its coiled, powerful form and jagged, tearing teeth would be enough to scare just about anyone spitless, but when you were dealing with wolves as big or bigger than a horse, a bear...there was some instinctual part of the psyche that couldn't help but recoil in absolute, paralyzing terror. I felt my mouth go dry.

Edythe was studying my expression, warily at first, as though afraid of scaring me. However, the look was suddenly replaced by a gleam, as though something had occurred to her she didn't particularly mind.

Before I could try to figure it out, she turned away from me, turning instead toward Carine and the others.

"Hmm," she said mildly, gazing out into the forest. "It seems they've been holding out on us...You might all want to prepare yourselves."

Archie frowned, and said what everyone else was thinking. "And that means what, exactly?"

Edythe didn't reply, only gazed out into the darkness.

I blinked, and when I looked again, the informal circle had changed to a loose line, with Jessamine standing at its spear point, flanked on either side by Royal and Eleanor—the most physically intimidating of the family. Only Edythe remained a little separate from the others, staying a step back with me.

I squinted toward the forest where the rest of them were looking, but I couldn't seem to make anything out.

I heard Eleanor swear under her breath, and there was tension in every line of Royal's body language. Even Carine seemed unnerved. I squinted harder.

"The pack has grown," Edythe murmured, answering my unspoken question.

Of course I already knew that—I thought I'd told Edythe Quil had joined the pack, though I couldn't remember now. However, as my eyes caught sight of a row of glittering eyes—slowly advancing on us through the darkness—as I started to count them, I did a double-take and counted them again. But no, I'd counted right—there were more than there should be. Instead of six pairs of eyes, there were ten.

"Interesting," Edythe murmured.

Carine took a slow, deliberate step forward. A careful movement, meant to reassure.

"Welcome," she said, and though she only spoke in a normal volume, I knew the wolves, still invisible in the shadows of the trees, would have no trouble hearing. "We are glad that you are here."

"Thank you." I was startled to hear Edythe was speaking beside me, but not her usual voice. Her tone was flat and devoid of emotion, and I realized she was speaking for Samantha. I scanned the line of eyes, but I couldn't seem to find which of the wolves was the big black one.

Edythe continued in the same even, detached voice, "We will watch and listen. But no more."

Carine's eyes remained on the line of wolves and she said graciously, "That will be more than enough. My daughter Jessamine—" She extended a hand to indicate Jessamine, who stood tense and ready— "has experience in this area. She will teach us how to fight, and how to defeat them."

"How are they different from you?" Edythe asked for Sam.

"These are new ones we will be fighting," Carine answered. "Unlike an older member of our kind, they will use little in the way of skill or strategy, and instead will rely primarily on brute strength. Tonight, their numbers stand at twenty—ten for us and ten for you. And those numbers may decrease, due to in-fighting. In all likelihood, it will not be difficult—but there are certainly key things to be aware of."

"When and how will they arrive?" Edythe asked in Sam's flat voice.

"They will come across the mountains," Carine answered. "In the late morning, four days from now. As they draw nearer, Archie will help us intercept their path."

"Thank you for this information," Edythe answered for Sam. "We will observe."

That was all Sam was going to say, and I watched as, with a sighing sound, all the eyes sank closer to the ground, one set at a time, as they all settled in to watch.

There was silence for two heartbeats, and then Jessamine stepped out, into the yawning empty space between the vampires and the werewolves. In spite of the darkness, the pale glow of her white skin in the gloom made her clearly visible. I noticed Jessamine's eyes flicker briefly to meet Edythe's. Edythe nodded once, very slightly, and Jessamine stiffly turned her back on the werewolves. Though she seemed far from comfortable with the arrangements, when she spoke her voice was calm, and she proceeded as though the quadrupedal audience behind her wasn't there.

"Carine is right," she said. "These will not be skilled fighters we face. They will fight primarily on instinct, like children, and attack you head-on. When fighting them, there are really only two simple principles to always remember—never allow one to get his arms around you, and second, never go for the obvious kill. That is the one thing they will be prepared for. But if you come at them from the side and keep moving, that will leave them too confused to respond effectively."

Jessamine's eyes flickered. "Eleanor," she said. "Would you step forward?"

Eleanor swaggered out of the line, cracking her knuckles. Jessamine backed toward the north end of the clearing, while Eleanor took up a position opposite.

"Eleanor will go first," Jessamine said. "Because she relies primarily on strength in a fight, her style of attack will be the most similar to that of a newborn."

Eleanor stretched out her arms in front of her, rotating her shoulders, and springing lightly on her feet, readying herself for a fight. "Hey, Jess, I really hope that wasn't you just calling me a newbie. Because I could end up rearranging your face by accident."

The corner of Jessamine's lips twitched in an almost-smile, before settling back into one carefully blank, devoid of emotion. "A newborn attack will always be straightforward," she said evenly. "Easy to predict, relying entirely on speed and power. So, Eleanor...go for the easy kill."

"You asked for it," Eleanor muttered, bending forward, her face suddenly serious and determined.

Jessamine backed up a few more paces, her posture mirroring Eleanor's as she readied herself for the fight. "All right, Eleanor," she said. "Try to get me."

Then Jessamine disappeared. She moved so fast she was no more than a blur, with the substance of a ghost. Eleanor sped toward Jessamine like a bullet. In a instant they were inches apart, Eleanor's hands a blur as again and again she reached to seize Jessamine. But Jessamine seemed to weave in and out of Eleanor's every move like water. Next to me, Edythe was leaned forward, her eyes following the battle closely. Then Eleanor froze.

Jessamine was behind her—so small and slight next to Eleanor's tall, female body-builder physique—her teeth an inch from Eleanor's throat.

Eleanor swore.

There was a muttered rumble of appreciation from the wolf audience.

Eleanor's smile was gone. "One more time," she insisted.

"Everyone will go once first," Jessamine answered. Her eyes flickered once over the line of Cullens, before coming to rest on Edythe. "Your turn," she said.

My grip on Edythe's hand tightened, but Edythe rubbed my fingers soothingly, and I had no choice but to let go.

In a moment, Edythe was standing in the clearing, opposite Jessamine. She bent forward slightly, and though she didn't have Elearnor's swagger, I could see the same eagerness for the fight in her glittering eyes.

Before calling the start, Jessamine's eyes turned to me. "This will be good for you to see," she said. "I know how you worry."

They both began at exactly the same moment. Edythe was a blur across the field as she tore straight for Jessamine. However, at the last moment, she feinted to the left, at the same time as Jessamine.

This fight was something else to watch—Edythe was a little faster than Jessamine, but Jessamine had a century of experience that allowed her to use moves Edythe may never have fought before. However, though Jessamine seemed to be trying to settle into fighting purely on instinct, her thoughts always seemed to give her away at the last moment, and Edythe would pull away and launch her own strike.

While they fought, Archie casually sidled up beside me, resting an arm on my shoulder.

"Some battle, huh?" he said. "Like I told you before. Even Edythe has trouble going up against experience like my Jessamine's, and if Jessamine really got serious, I doubt things would end up in Edythe's favor."

I felt my stomach tighten, but before I could respond, he went on.

"But, that says more about Jess than about Edythe. If you had to pick the fighters from our coven you really didn't want to go up against, Edy would definitely be one of them. Trust me, for someone to hold their own against Edy, they have to have the experience to fight purely on instinct—like, a hundred years worth of experience. Also probably about have to have a heads-up on what kind of power she's got, which most besides us don't—and they don't stand a chance. So Jess is right. You really don't need to worry about Edythe."

My eyes were still riveted to the fight, the both of them moving too fast for me to really follow what they were doing. I knew Archie was right, but even so, every time I saw Jessamine lunge at Edythe, I felt my stomach lurch. In a few days, that would be real enemies— vampires who really did want to kill her.

Archie casually leaned close, and he said in my ear, so low the words were barely audible, "Oh by the way, I know what you're planning."

I glanced back toward the middle of the clearing, but Edythe was wholly absorbed in the fight with Jessamine and evidently didn't hear.

Archie went on, more quietly still, "Seriously, give it up already. You playing the hero isn't going to help anything—even if you did give yourself up and they got you, we'd all fight just the same. I'll warn you now, man—keep on this line of thought, so help me, I _will_ tell Edy. And trust me, you don't want me to do that."

I gazed out across the field at Edythe, a barely visible blur as she went after Jessamine. Archie was right, Edythe would probably go ballistic if she knew what I would do if only I had the power. And he was also right that even if I did, it probably wouldn't do a bit of good. If I was right, and it _was_ Victor behind all this—he'd keep coming after Edythe no matter what happened to me. And yet, when it came to helping both my families, it was the only possible thing I could do. Otherwise, I was absolutely powerless.

Archie frowned at me. "Just think about that," he said as he pulled away.

The fight continued for another minute or two, with neither fighter gaining the upper hand. At last, Carine intervened, declaring a draw.

Jessamine called Earnest next, then Royal, then Carine. Just like with Eleanor, Jessamine was clearly the faster, far more able combatant, and she won each with seeming ease. However, many times she would momentarily slow down to point out a particular move or form of approach she was using.

Edythe, who had returned to my side, watched everything was rapt attention. She wasn't just watching the fights, I guessed, but also absorbing Jessamine's thoughts as well.

"Well," Archie said as Carine left to go stand with the others again. "I guess it's my turn." He casually sauntered forward to stand in the clearing, looking perfectly relaxed. He grinned at Jessamine.

"The final showdown," he said in a deep, dramatic movie-commentator voice. "Who will emerge victorious?"

Jessamine didn't respond, her expression one of set concentration.

Even before I'd ever seen Jessamine in action, I'd thought she looked tough. She was almost always quiet and inconspicuous, yet when you actually took time to focus on her, it seemed like a martial-artist kind of quiet—a silent confidence she could take down twenty guys if she had to, so fast and so quiet she'd already have it done and be long gone before you even noticed.

On the other hand, looking at Archie, forever relaxed with a bit of an artsy vibe, it was hard to see him presenting much of a threat to Jessamine. Plus, I doubted Archie could bring himself to really go after Jessamine like an enemy. By contrast, Jessamine didn't look as though she would have any such problem.

Flashing a grin, Archie said, "Go easy on me, Jess, won't you?"

Jessamine's even expression flickered for the first time. She almost smiled, her face somehow at once affectionate and slightly irritated. "I would never treat any opponent with such disrespect," she said softly. "Especially you."

Archie sighed dramatically. "Guess you're right. I'll give it my best then, too." He brought one hand out of his pocket. However, the arm dangled limply at his side, while the other hand remained in his pocket and his spine stayed straight. He closed his eyes.

Jessamine did not answer. Instead, she instantly sank into a crouch, her face settling into the blank mask of a predator. She stalked left at first, then right. Suddenly, before I was ready for it, she sprung, turning into a blur as she attacked—she really wasn't holding back.

She reappeared just behind Archie, their backs to each other. Archie was standing there with his eyes closed, and didn't appear to have moved. Maybe I'd been wrong—maybe Jessamine couldn't bring herself to lay a hand on Archie, either.

Jessamine turned on the spot and disappeared again, once again reappearing on Archie's opposite side. Archie was still standing there, hand casually in his pocket.

I squinted into the darkness, watching carefully. And then I realized I'd been missing it—Archie wasn't doing nothing. Rather, every time Jessamine struck at him, he moved just enough to evade the attack, and then instantly moved back into place.

Jessamine began to attack in earnest, striking out with her arms, thrusting and spearing as though she wielded a pair of swords, at such dizzying speeds my eyes couldn't keep up.

Archie, eyes still closed, wove in and out of every attack like it was nothing. Before, I'd thought the way Jessamine dodged attacks made her look like water—but she was nothing compared to Archie. Archie moved in and out of every attack with such grace and fluidity he was beyond water. There were moments I was sure he was no more substantial than a breath of smoke.

At last, I heard Archie chuckle and abruptly he was behind Jessamine, an arm around her waist, and he bent to briefly touch his lips to her throat.

"And I think that's checkmate," he said, in a low affectionate voice.

I thought Jessamine would be angry or further annoyed, but she only smiled, the first real smile during this session. "You really are a monster," she said, shaking her head.

"One of my good points," Archie said with a grin.

"Wow," I muttered, still staring at the place Archie had stood even as he loped out of the clearing, and Eleanor went in for another go.

Edythe nodded. "Jessamine can combat my mind reading a little—she's been fighting so long she can almost fight without thinking. But there's nothing she can do about Archie. He can see her every move whether she thinks about it or not."

I nodded. "What happens when you and Archie spar then?"

Edythe smiled a little. "It's always come to a draw. Even though Archie can beat Jessamine that way and I can't, he can see the future of what I'm going to do, and I immediately see what he sees of what I'm going to do, so neither of us can get the upper hand."

"Couldn't you fight without making decisions?" I asked curiously. "Like, fight on instinct? Or make snap decisions?"

Edythe shook her head. "That's what Jessamine was trying to do just now, the same thing she was doing with me, with partial success. But the problem with Archie's power is that even deciding _I won't make conscious decisions_ is a decision, and Archie foresees the result of that."

I shook my head. "Wow," I muttered again.

The wolves reacted to this fight. I'd heard rumbling growls of interest or appreciation at one particular move or another, especially during Jessamine and Edythe's fight, but at Archie's performance, the responding murmuring growls seemed almost wary.

"Maybe they'll learn some respect," Edythe murmured, amused as she glanced in their direction.

I nodded. Except, Archie's power didn't work on the wolves. If they were trying to work with the wolves, would that compromise his power in the fight?

I was really beginning to feel the lost rest now—it was approaching a solid twenty-four hours since I'd last slept, and on top of that, I hadn't been sleeping all that well lately anyway. My eyelids began to droop, and I was starting to feel dead on my feet.

Edythe noticed, and she wrapped an arm around my waist, letting me lean against her for support. "We're almost done," she said in my ear.

She was right, as Jessamine turned to face the wolves for the first time. Her posture was stiff, alert and on guard as she said, "We will be doing this once again tomorrow night. Please feel free to come back and observe again."

"Yes," Edythe replied in Samantha's cool, even voice. "We will be here."

Edythe squeezed my hand briefly, then gently pulled from my grip. She turned to her family.

"The pack believes it would be useful to familiarize themselves with our individual scents, to avoid making any mistakes later," she said. "It will make it easier if we all hold very still."

"Of course," Carine answered Samantha. "Whatever you need."

Another growling muttering sound went through the pack, and they sounded anything but thrilled. However, I saw their glittering eyes rise as they each got to their feet.

My eyes flickered toward the east, and I noticed the sky was just beginning to lighten. Though the sun had not yet breached the horizon, I could see its glow reflected faintly off the clouds, just beyond the mountains.

My eyes returned to the forest, and I realized now I could just make out the dark shapes of the wolves as they approached. I could even make out the different colors of their fur.

My exhaustion forgotten, I stared at them.

A great black wolf was in the lead—Sam, of course. Unbelievably huge, powerful, capable of tearing vampires to pieces.

The entire pack emerged from the dark forest, one by one, and they seemed to blot out the sky with their vast forms.

I felt a shiver down my spine, and though rationally I knew these beasts were all girls I knew, and they were no danger to me, the instinct to run was hard to fight. My heart was pounding, sweat had broken out on my palms.

Edythe still stood with her family, but her eyes watched me, with an expression I couldn't quite place. Curious, evaluating...calculating?

Samantha first approached Carine, the rest of the pack following in a rigid line. Jessamine was tense, her eyes carefully watching the wolves' every move, but Eleanor was grinning and looked as though she were enjoying herself.

Sam's entire body was rigid as she bent her head to Carine, and I couldn't tell if that was because she was on alert for an attack or because she could barely stand the smell. She didn't relax as she slowly moved on to Jessamine.

My eyes moved to study the wolves. I saw chocolate brown—that was Quil. Among them I noticed a rather large gray one—I thought she might be even bigger than Sam. The hackles on the back of her neck was raised, and she looked more aggressive than the others, muzzle pulled back from her teeth in a silent snarl. There was another near the back with fur the color of desert sand, smaller than the rest, and I thought, unlike the others, seemed more just nervous than hostile.

My eyes went back to the front of the procession, and my gaze rested on the the large wolf following second, just behind Sam. That wolf had shaggy, rust-colored fur, and walked with a casual, almost unconcerned air that stood out from all the others.

Perhaps the wolf felt my gaze, because at that moment, she turned to look at me with familiar black eyes.

My mind was having a kind of disconnect, from the giant, powerful creature standing behind the black wolf, and the girl I knew, my best friend. But I knew they were the same. I could only stare with wonder, a kind of morbid fascination.

The wolf's muzzle opened, pulling back to reveal rows razor sharp teeth—which would have been menacing, if her tongue hadn't also lolled out the side in a playful, dog-like grin.

I couldn't help it. I grinned back, and suddenly had the stupidest urge to find something chewable to wave to get her to come over. I wondered if she would be up for a game of fetch, or if she would just be thinking what an idiot I was.

Almost as though Jules could read what I was thinking, she left her place in line and approached, ignoring the eyes of the rest of the pack as they followed her, and ignoring Edythe and Archie standing a little ways away. She came to a stop not two feet from me.

I half expected Edythe to leap in front of me to block Jules—she had an overprotective streak a mile long, and I doubted facing giant wolves was an activity she found very acceptable—but Edythe didn't move. She only stood where she was, watching us carefully with an unfathomable expression.

Jules crouched down on her front legs, dropping her large head until our eyes were perfectly level. I tried to read the expression in her dark eyes, and I thought she was measuring my reaction. Just like in the kitchen with the knife, she wanted to see if I was freaked out by what she was, what she was capable of—maybe she needed to find out if everything I said about not caring if she was a werewolf was all just talk.

"Jules?" I said in a low voice, and I know my voice shook slightly at the end.

There was a deep rumble in her chest, almost like a chuckle.

I reached out a hand, slowly, cautiously, until my slightly shaking fingers touched the deep red-brown fur on the side of her head. As soon as I made contact, my hand was suddenly steady.

The black eyes closed, and Jules leaned her enormous head into my hand. A thrumming hum of satisfaction vibrated against my skin. If she'd been a giant cat instead, I had no doubt the sound would have come out a purr.

Curiously, I ran my fingers through the fur, taking note of the texture, which was somehow soft and rough at the same time. My hand moved along down to the neck next, where the color of the fur deepened, and I automatically scratched it like I might have a dog's.

I hadn't quite realized how close I had drifted until Jules, drawing her wolf face close to mine, abruptly licked me from jaw to hairline.

"Agh!" I exclaimed, jumping back. I wiped my face with my hand, then stared down at my palm, now sodden with spit. "Seriously, Jules? You have no class."

Jules gave a coughing bark through her teeth, which sounded a lot like laughter.

I stared back at her with feigned indignation for a second, before my mouth suddenly split into a grin. I reached over to wipe my hand off on her fur. "That was nasty," I said. "I'll pay you back for that." However, I was laughing.

It was then I suddenly remembered we were in a clearing full of vampires and werewolves, and I realized every pair of eyes was on us. The Cullens were observing us with looks that ranged from perplexed to disgusted. The wolves had all frozen and turned to gape at us, the way a dog suddenly stops when it sees a squirrel, or something else it would probably like to chase and maim. I didn't need to be able to read the expressions on their inhuman faces to tell they weren't much happier with the odd scene than the vampires.

Edythe was watching us too, brow furrowed slightly, but otherwise her expression smooth. Our eyes met briefly, then she looked away.

Jules made the laughing-barking sound again.

The others wolves were backing away now, their eyes never moving from the Cullens. Jules didn't move from my side, and instead simply watched them go. They vanished into the murky forest—all except two, who lingered by the trees watching Jules, their postures radiating anxiety.

Edythe who, along with the rest of the Cullens, had been watching the wolves, turned away when they were gone. Ignoring Jules entirely, in a moment she was at my other side. She took my hand.

"Ready to go?" she asked.

I was about to answer, but then Edythe's gaze raised above me to look at Jules. A slight crease formed in her brow.

"No, we haven't quite worked out all the details yet," she said, answering some thought from Jules. "We can get to that once our plans are more concrete."

Jules made a low growl that almost sounded like a grumble.

Edythe's face remained smooth, but her mouth tightened slightly. "I don't know...There are so many factors. It isn't as simple as that. Don't worry—I'll make certain it's safe."

"What?" I asked, looking to Edythe. "What is it?"

"It's nothing," Edythe said lightly. "Just discussing a point of strategy."

Jules looked between our faces for a moment, then she slowly backed away from me.

I watched her, confused. Then she closed her eyes and took a deep, growling breath, and before my eyes, I watched her wolf form shift and change. She seemed to shrink, growing more compact, as though pulling her body back into itself. The fur disappeared, the long snout shortened into a russet face.

Then the wolf was gone, and it was Jules standing there, dressed in a tight black undershirt and biking shorts, feet bare against the cold ground. Her eyes opened and she grinned.

"Wow," I said, gaping at her. "That was..."

"Awesome?" she inserted.

"I was really going for _weird_ , but I guess that works, too."

Jules's grin widened. Then her eyes returned to Edythe and she was all business.

"Okay, if that won't work, how about he stays on the reservation? We're making Carol and Brittany stay behind anyway."

I frowned, suspicious. "Are you two talking about me?"

Jules's eyes shifted to me. "I'm trying to find out where you're going to be during the fight."

Edythe nodded slowly. "She's right, clearly you can't stay in Forks. On the chance someone slipped by us, they'd go right to you."

I felt something icy slowly crawl down into my stomach. The faces of all my friends and neighbors flashed through my mind as they had yesterday, and one face stood out from the rest.

"What about Charlie?" I asked, trying to keep the panic from my voice. "If they got past you and went there..."

"Don't worry," Jules said reassuringly. "It'll be Saturday. There's a game. Bonnie will get him up to our place no matter what she has to do."

"Besides," Edythe added, "getting you away will only be a precaution. As I said, there probably won't be enough of them to keep us entertained."

"So what about La Push?" Jules insisted again. "We can keep him there, can't we?"

Edythe hesitated, then slowly shook her head. "Beau has been there too much—his scent is all over the place. Whoever it is behind all this could decide to make a move while we're preoccupied taking care of the newborns. It would be better if he was somewhere he would be difficult to find—somewhere he has not been frequently, just in case. We must take every precaution."

Jules considered that, then her gaze drifted to the east, to the deep forest of the vast expanse of the Olympic Mountains.

"Yes," Edythe said slowly, "we could hide him there. Except—his scent is too strong. They would follow him wherever we took him. Even if I carried him so he never touched the ground, he would still leave a trace, and even though our scents are all over the range, his combined with mine would be like a beacon, leading them right to him if they happened to cross the trail."

Jules gave an involuntary shiver at the thought, then chewed her lip, trying to think.

"Okay," she muttered. "Okay, but...so...what if..." Her face lit up suddenly, as she hit upon another idea. "Hey," she said. "Our scent disgusts you, right?"

I expected Edythe to immediately shoot down whatever she was thinking, but to my surprise, she was quiet for a moment. At last, she said thoughtfully, "You know, that might just work. We can try, at least."

Edythe turned, calling lightly, "Jessamine?"

Jessamine, who was standing with Archie, turned in our direction. She approached cautiously, Archie a half-step behind. He was frowning again.

"Okay," Jules said, clapping her hands together. "Let's do it." She turned her back to me and gestured—as though for me to climb on.

I glanced back at Edythe, now thoroughly confused and suspicious.

Edythe's expression was composed. "We're going to see if her scent can effectively mask yours," she explained. "Your scent is more potent to me, so it will be a more accurate test for Jessamine to attempt to track you."

I had sort of figured it was something like that, but still I hesitated. I had definitely not forgotten the episode outside Jules's house, and I wasn't sure I wanted to get that close again. Who knew what she might try to pull.

"Come on, we don't have all day," Jules said, rolling her eyes. "Or did you want to go wolf-back?"

At this, I thought about how high off the ground I would be, and the high probability I would lose my grip and fall off.

Grumbling to myself, I carefully climbed onto her back, reluctantly wrapping an arm around her neck and gripping her shoulder, and she reached up to grip my knees. I had to admit, we were a better size-match than when I rode on Edythe's back this way, and I didn't feel quite so huge, but Jules was still wiry, and it didn't feel like she should be able to hoist me up like I weighed ten pounds, as she seemed to be doing now. She readjusted her hold on my legs, then took off at leisurely lope toward the woods.

Jules didn't try to talk to me, for which I was grateful. My chest pressed up against her back and my head next to hers felt too intimate, and I turned my face deliberately away, gazing out into the dark woods as they rushed by us. I concentrated on the quiet sound of her even breathing, and I realized I could feel a slow, rhythmic thudding against my chest, though I couldn't tell if it was my heart or hers.

We didn't go far. She made a wide arc though the forest, then re-emerged into the clearing from a different direction, perhaps half a football field away from where we'd left. Edythe was standing there alone, perfectly still.

"You can let me down now," I said, pushing away from her back and trying to pull my legs free.

Jules shot me a grin over her shoulder. "Let's not chance messing up the experiment...Unless you want another go?"

I scowled, and she laughed.

Jules came to a stop about a dozen feet from where Edythe stood, where she finally let me down.

Still annoyed and without looking at Jules, I quickly returned to Edythe's side. I glanced back, and noticed Archie and Jessamine had suddenly reappeared just beside us, as though they'd never gone.

Jules approached, looking relaxed and casual. "Well?" she asked.

"A success," Jessamine murmured.

"No question," Archie said, pinching his nose. "As long as you don't touch anything, they won't want to get close enough to _that_ to catch your trail. Trust me."

"And," Jessamine added quietly, a sudden spark in her eye, "it gave me an idea."

Archie put a hand on her shoulder. "Which will work," he said, flashing a grin.

"Hmm," Edythe said, looking appreciative. "Very good. I like that."

Jules sighed and rolled her eyes to look at me. "Do they always do that?" she wondered.

"You mean have only half a conversation aloud so you have no idea what they're talking about?" I answered. "All the time."

Edythe ignored Jules and turned back to me. "We're going to have you leave a false trail, right to the clearing where we'll be waiting for them. It will work, Archie has seen it. When they catch _our_ scent, they'll split up and try to come at us from two sides. Half will come around at us, and we won't have a problem with them. The other half go through the forest—Archie can't see what happens to them then, but I think it's a fair guess."

Edythe's eyes turned to Jules, and she was smiling, a gleam in her eye.

Jules was showing all of her teeth. "Huh, I _wonder_."

It was perhaps the first time I'd seen Edythe and Jules look at each with an expression of something other than hostility or thinly veiled disgust. Their expressions were fierce and eager. United in a common purpose.

It suddenly hit me then. Both Edythe and Jules were going to be in this battle. If something went wrong...they could both fall.

The thought knocked the breath out of me. I felt like something was suddenly clawing in my chest, in my throat. Fear. Fear that, during this battle, the absolute worst might happen—twice.

Could I really let this happen? Could I really bear to see them both take this chance, without doing anything myself?

Edythe's brief smile was abruptly gone, and her lips were curled back from her teeth in a snarl. "No," she snapped.

I blinked, for a second certain that she had somehow read my mind. Jules, too, looked startled, and she automatically backed up a step, looking ready for a fight, but as bewildered as I felt.

However, when Edythe turned, her eyes fell on Jessamine.

Jessamine had her hands up in a conciliatory gesture. "Of course not," she said in a low voice. "I wasn't really considering it, it was just a passing thought."

Archie sighed. "You know, I never thought I'd say this, but I'm _almost_ siding with the wolf girl. That can be so annoying."

Jessamine's eyes flickered to me, then away, and she explained, "If he was _in_ the clearing...actually there...they would be wild, completely unfocused, incapable of seeing anything but him. We would pick them off like flies..."

At Edythe's icy expression, Jessamine continued quickly, "But of course, that would be far too much of a risk. As I said, it was just a passing thought..." However, her eyes flickered irresistibly to me again, and I saw the regret there.

However, the cold look in Edythe's eyes seemed to settle things with absolute finality.

Jessamine took a step back, looking uncomfortable and uncertain. Archie reached over and said casually, deflating the tension, "What do you say we do another few rounds, eh? We'll make it two out of three."

Jessamine seemed relieved at the distraction, and she nodded, and the two of them headed back toward the fighting area again.

Jules watched them go for a minute, her arms folded, eyes narrowed.

Edythe took a steadying breath, then glanced at Jules.

"She's just being strategic," she explained. "She can't help but see all the options—that's just good military sense."

Jules nodded. "Didn't stop you from wanting to rip her face off for a second though, did it? I was thinking about it, too."

Jules had drifted unconsciously closer, absorbed in the planning, and now she and Edythe were less than three feet apart. The moment they'd seemed to be of one purpose seemed to have passed, and the air seemed to vibrate with the tension.

Edythe's voice was cool and even as she returned to business. "We will be here Friday afternoon to lay the false trail. Then we will meet with you, and then you and Beau will travel up the mountain—I know exactly the spot. It is far out of the way, and easy to defend in case of attack, unlikely as that is. I'll take another route and meet you there."

"And you're just going to dump him there and leave him on his lonesome, are you?" Jules raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

Edythe hesitated. "Well..."

Jules was looking smug for some reason.

Edythe paused, then nodded slowly. "Yes...you're right. I would feel more comfortable with that arrangement."

I sighed, and I was about to ask if there was any point at all asking to be allowed to stay in the loop, but Jules turned to me and, as though determined to play the good guy to keep me clued in, she explained, "We've been trying to talk Sarah into staying behind in La Push with the other two—she's really still too young for this—but she's dug in her heels and she's insisting she's coming. The problem is she really wants to help and she hates the thought of sitting back at home all safe doing nothing while we're out risking our lives. But if we could give her a helpful assignment..."

I understood only too well how Sarah felt. However, my head reeled at the thought of Sarah as a werewolf. I hadn't realized she'd already changed. When had that happened? In my mind, I pictured a shy, smiling girl, barely fifteen, and could have passed as younger than that.

Jules continued, "If she was with you, she obviously wouldn't be in the thick of the fighting, but we'd feel better because the whole pack would know immediately if there was any danger headed your way. Distance is no problem—we can hear each other's thoughts for miles. Three hundred miles is the farthest we've tested."

"Impressive," Edythe murmured. She added reluctantly, "It's a good idea. You're right, I don't think it would be wise for him to be left totally alone there." She made a face. "Although, if someone had told me a month ago I'd be trusting _werewolves..._ "

"Working with bloodsuckers," Jules said, shaking her head tragically. "And after so many years of the Quileute's illustrious history. Now our generation comes along, and our tribe's already got a black mark."

"On the other hand, you'll probably also slay more vampires than any one tribe ever has," Edythe pointed out.

"That's true," Jules admitted ruefully. She grinned, and winked at me. "Just goes to show—there's a bright side to everything."

* * *

A/N: And, there's another one down. I'm really not sure how this one ended up so long, I guess just little things here and there. (Seemingly my default is the opposite of concise. xD)

Also, thanks so much to for the reimagined name ideas for Collin and Brady! (I know you're probably not reading this anymore, but I was glad for that, since I was totally drawing a blank on them.)

Anyway, thanks so much reading! If you have a moment, let me know what you thought, and see you next time! C:

Posted 10/16/17


	19. Priorities

A/N: Hey! Made it back again. (I'm a bit surprised to have gotten to it this week, it seemed like there was going to be a lot going on.)

Thanks so much for sticking with me this far! See you at the end~ C:

* * *

Chapter 18: Priorities

I don't know exactly when I fell asleep—because one minute I was riding along on Edythe's back, teetering on the edge of consciousness, and the next I was waking up in my bed.

Blearily, my gaze flickered to the windows—the dull light was slanting in at a strange angle, almost like it did in the afternoon.

I shook my head and slowly sat up, stretching my arms above my head. They were stiff as boards.

"Edythe?" I said in a croaky, scratchy voice, rubbing the back of my neck.

I felt a cool hand slide over mine, and I turned to see Edythe sitting on the bed beside me, her legs folded underneath her. Her smile was dazzling, too bright to look at this early in the morning, and I blinked.

"Um, good morning," I said, still a bit groggy.

"Good morning," she answered. "Are you really awake this time?"

I pinched my arm to check. "I think so. What do you mean _this time_?"

Edythe shrugged. "You've been restless...talking in your sleep. Almost all day."

I was embarrassed, until I processed that last part. I frowned. All day?

I turned to stare at my clock on the nightstand, then my eyes returned to my window—where the light was definitely pouring in from the west.

I spun back on her. "And you just let me—lay here?" I demanded. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

"You didn't sleep at all last night," Edythe reminded me. "You needed your rest. And you're probably hungry too, now. It's approaching twenty-four hours since your last meal." She smiled. "How does breakfast in bed sound?"

"I'll get it," I said quickly as my stomach gave an audible rumble, and I swiveled my body around to put my feet on the floor.

Edythe followed me as I marched a little too quickly down the hall, and she reached out a hand to steady me when I swayed a bit with vertigo as I was heading down the stairs.

I generally tried to stop Edythe from doing things like cooking for me, doing my laundry, or any of my other household chores—not that she hadn't tried. Sometimes I thought if Edythe had her way, not only would I be going to Dartmouth, driving a Ferrari and have all the most chic designer clothes like some kind of movie star, but I wouldn't have to lift a finger around the house and she'd have everything done all the time as if I was some kind of king with a house full of servants.

I knew Edythe could take care of everything in a tenth of the time it took me, and have it done exactly the way I wanted it—but since cooking and housework were some of the only things I really felt I knew how to do, I wanted to do them.

I tried to think as little as possible about our pending nuptials—I still needed to tell Charlie and my mom, but I had been mega-stalling, especially where my mom was concerned—but when I did think about us married...whatever kind of husband I turned out to be, I didn't want to be the kind who sat around, waited on hand and foot. I wanted to help, I wanted to do what little I could.

"Are you sure you don't want me to fix you something?" Edythe asked, eying the pair of Pop-Tarts in my hand doubtfully as I slotted them into the toaster. I hadn't felt up to making anything else.

"I'm sure," I said. "I could use the sugar right now."

I went to sit at the table to wait for them to heat.

Something Allen had said, back when we'd been helping Becca address her announcements, drifted back to me. _If Edythe needed help with something, you'd be there, wouldn't you?_

But Edythe never needed help with anything. The few times I'd seen her desperate, and she'd needed assistance with something—like now, on the verge of an attack by a newborn army—it wasn't something I could help her with. Jules, her mortal enemy, was a bigger help to her and her family than I was. I was just a liability that had to be protected. Just what was I contributing to this relationship anyway? What kind of boyfriend was I?

Edythe was watching me carefully, and of course she immediately picked up on my sudden gloom. She reached over and put a hand on mine.

"What's wrong?" she asked, lowering her head so she could peer up into my face, and she was directly in my sight line so I couldn't avoid her gaze.

I shook my head. "Nothing. Maybe I'm not totally woken up yet."

Edythe's eyes flickered down to our joined hands. She paused, and she bent slightly to get a better look at something.

It took me a second to realize it was Jules's leather bracelet, still on my wrist.

Her hand slowly lifted off of mine, and instead the tips of her fingers drifted toward it, almost curiously. However, she hesitated, glancing back up at me as though looking for permission. When I didn't object, she slowly, delicately slipped her fingers under the tiny wooden charm, holding it up to the western sunlight pouring in through the window, so she could examine the fine, almost realistic detail. Her thumb came up to tilt the figurine so she could see it from all angles.

I realized my entire body was tense as I watched her. As though I were afraid that, at any moment, she might crush it into splinters.

But of course her touch was gentle, her eyes pensive. She was still gazing at it with a faraway look in her eyes when she murmured, almost to herself, "You are...so inconsistent sometimes."

I felt my stomach tighten.

Edythe sighed, finally letting the charm fall back into place, then lifted her eyes to gaze at me.

"Apparently," she said, fingers laced together on the table, like a principal bringing up an issue at a board meeting, "Julie Black is permitted the liberty of giving you gifts."

I didn't answer. She was obviously thinking about my last birthday, when I'd tried to declare it a no-present year, and been adamant I'd didn't want or need anything. I'd finally bent a little and allowed I would accept one small gift, so long as she hadn't spent any money.

The corners of Edythe's mouth were turned up as though she were amused, but there was a touch of hurt in her eyes she couldn't seem to suppress.

"And it's not only Julie Black," she continued. "You let other people give things to you...do things for you...but not me. I'm always the exception. I want to get you things...I would have liked to get you a graduation present. But I didn't, because I knew you wouldn't like it. And it's only to me—no one else. Why is that?"

Allen's words were coming back to me again, and my eyes dropped. I felt heat crawling up my neck. "Because," I muttered. Then I sighed, and forced myself to look back up at her and meet her eyes.

"Because..." I said slowly. "I want to be the one to give you things. I want to be the one to do things for _you_."

Edythe didn't seem to know how to respond for a second. She only stared at me, her face blank with surprise. She finally shook her head.

"But," she said softly, earnestly, "you do give me things, Beau. Everyday. You give me everything."

It was a ridiculous thing to say, but Edythe's face was perfectly serious.

I stared back at her for a second, then let my eyes drop again. After a minute, I got up and took my Pop Tarts from the toaster, putting them on a plate.

"By the way," she said, and her voice had come back up to a normal tone. In fact, I thought I detected a steely edge in her voice, and when I turned to look, I found her surveying me through narrowed eyes.

I chewed my breakfast with deliberate slowness. I swallowed, then said at last, "What?"

"Archie called earlier."

I was nonplussed. "I'm glad you had something to do while I was in dreamland."

Edythe folded her arms. "Is there anything you'd like to tell me? Any decisions you've made recently that _might_ put you in unnecessary, obscene danger?"

I hesitated, then sighed. It sounded like Archie had already told her anyway. "Jessamine seems to think I could help."

Edythe's teeth clenched, and she muttered something that sounded like an oath. Then she said, "There's no point putting you in danger. I told you, there's more than enough of us to take care of them all, and one of us could probably sit out and it wouldn't make a difference. To put you there..."

She paused, and a shiver went down her spine. "...would be absolutely pointless."

"Jessamine thought it would give you a strategic advantage," I argued. "In a battle, you need every advantage you can get, or if something goes wrong, someone could get hurt—killed. Jessamine knows that. This isn't a game where you can play it over if something you didn't anticipate happens, or some unexpected factor throws a wrench in the works."

Edythe mouthed wordlessly for a second, then said sharply, "Something _could_ go wrong. _You_ could get hurt or killed. Whatever advantage we might or might not have isn't worth that risk."

I tried not to let it, but I could feel my temper rising. "What if I decide to be there anyway?" I asked. "Sarah doesn't want to be left behind while everyone she cares about is out there fighting either. I bet she would take me there."

A sharp, derisive laugh escaped her. "Oh, right," Edythe said scathingly. "I'm sure you're so desperate to put your life at risk that you'd put a young girl in danger, too."

She added, "Besides, it won't help anything for you to simply show up—the way Jessamine saw it having any benefit is if we knew exactly where you are, and we were ready to take advantage of the resulting chaos. And honestly, I think the advantage would be slight—they will be stirred up enough by your fresh scent there. But just as a precaution, I'll tell Samantha to give Sarah very specific orders. Even if she wants to, she can't ignore injunctions from the Alpha."

" _If_ you can convince her to give those orders," I said stubbornly. "But maybe Samantha would see things Jessamine's way. She would want to do what's best for the pack...give them the best chance."

"Perhaps," Edythe said coolly. Then she suddenly smiled. "But there are alternatives. I could speak to Julie Black, for instance. Even if Sam might not, _she_ would give the order."

This brought me up short. "Jules?" I repeated, confused.

"She's the beta," Edythe continued smugly, "the second in command. So her orders have to be obeyed as well. But she never told you that, did she?"

I paused, stymied, first by this new strange revelation, and then by the slow realization that we were not going to be using Jessamine's plan. I was going to be stuck somewhere safe, while the people I cared about most were going to be out risking their lives. And either one or both might not come back. Between Jules and Edythe, they had me trapped.

I slowly got up from the table, and went to stand by the window, my arms folded, my back to her. I gazed out at the sky outside, a mixture of dreary gray and just the beginning of an angry red.

Edythe was still smug with victory, and she was relaxed now.

"Last night I had a fascinating look into the pack's mind," she said conversationally. "The complex dynamic caused by such a large pack...The constant pull of the individual against the plural psyche. In some ways it made better entertainment than a soap opera."

Edythe was obviously trying to distract me, but I didn't look at her. I just continued to stare out the window.

"Julie Black's been keeping more secrets from you than you think," she said softly.

I felt suddenly exhausted—beaten. My shoulders slumped and my head sagged. "Like what?" I muttered at last.

Maybe Edythe noticed my mood, because her voice seemed gentler as she said, "Almost entirely things she simply wasn't allowed to share—when Sam gives the pack an order as the Alpha, they can't ignore it. Before yesterday, their numbers was a secret. Which is why she didn't tell you about Sarah...or Lee."

It took me a second to process that last name. I slowly turned to gape at her. "Did you just say—" I began incredulously. "But—I thought only _girls_ turned into wolves. It's part of the legend. It's the whole reason why their tribe is matriarchal."

Edythe shook her head. "Apparently there are just some things the old legends couldn't have prepared them for."

Lee as a werewolf...I thought about being the only guy in a group of girls with a connected psyche, and shuddered. He'd definitely gotten the raw end of the deal there.

"But he knows the secret now," I mused aloud. "Only Elliot knew before...I wonder if he'll try to win Sam back now?"

Edythe shook her head. "I don't think so," she said. "Especially now that he can see inside her mind."

Edythe didn't give any further explanation, and I took that to mean that, whatever was in Sam's thoughts, he would see absolutely now that it was hopeless.

What a bad situation—at least before, Lee could quietly suffer on his own, in the peace and safety of his own head. Now, as Jules had said, everything he felt was laid out for Sam and all the rest to see...Bitterness, shame, regret...

"That's sick," I murmured. "It's..." I couldn't think of a strong enough word to describe it.

Edythe nodded. "Although—Lee has not been a passive sufferer by any means."

My eyes had drifted away in thought, but now my gaze flickered back to her. "What does that mean?"

"That is, he's been making every effort to make life as miserable as possible for the others. Sharing thoughts is an uncomfortable experience, so generally they all try to cooperate, make things easier. If even one is deliberately malicious...well, knowing all someone's secrets make a powerful weapon if your intent is to twist the knife."

I didn't want to hear anymore. It didn't seem right—us seeing into Lee's secrets just like the rest of the pack did.

"Do you want to hear the rest of the pack gossip?" Edythe asked with a smile.

I shook my head, turning back to the window. "You're just trying to distract me."

Edythe's smile faded. "I don't need to distract you. Because we already have a plan, and it doesn't involve you going anywhere near that clearing."

My arms were folded again, my fists clenched, and I felt them trembling slightly. But this time it wasn't from anger. As I thought about both Jules and Edythe away from me, fighting, I felt the anxiety clawing at my chest, creeping down my back and up my neck.

And then something occurred to me—something horrible, almost cruel, but made it all seem clear as day.

I wanted to help, but beneath it all, the real reason I was so desperate was that I couldn't bear to see her put herself in harm's way. I wanted to be there to ensure the least possible danger to Edythe. So...if I couldn't be there, in the clearing with her, there was really only one other alternative.

It was a nasty thing to do, I knew—and yet, as though driven by some compulsion outside myself, I heard myself speak.

"All right," I said in a low voice. I could almost sense Edythe relax behind me, though I didn't turn my eyes from the window. I said quietly, "So there's absolutely no danger to any of you?"

"None," Edythe said easily. "It will be easy, Beau, I promise."

"You won't...not come back?" My voice was a whisper, and cracked on the last word.

Edythe was suddenly at my side, and I felt a cool, soothing hand on my back, the other gripping my hand. "I promise I will," she said gently. "We all will. It's not as dangerous for us as it might seem from your perspective, not with the wolf pack working with us. It will be _easy_."

"Easy," I repeated in a murmur. "So easy, there won't be enough for you to do. Someone could even sit out and it wouldn't make a difference."

"Yes," Edythe said eagerly, happy to win me over. "Exactly."

My eyes suddenly shifted to meet hers. The guilt was gnawing at my chest, but there was something hard there, too. I knew if I said this, I wouldn't be able to take it back. Once I started, I would have to finish. But I also knew I couldn't do anything else.

"If that's true, then prove it," I said in a low voice.

Edythe blinked, and she looked momentarily confused. "Of course," she said. "Anything."

I drew a breath, then said, "If it's as easy as you keep saying, and there's really no point in me being there...prove it to me. You stay behind with me, and let the others handle it. If you agree to that, I promise I'll be quiet and I won't try anything."

Edythe stared up at me for a second. Then her expression closed.

"You won't?" I said, making my voice scathing as I turned my eyes back to the window. "Course you won't. Because you're lying to me."

"Beau," Edythe said, very quietly, "are you asking me...to let them fight without my help?"

The guilt felt like it would burn a hole straight through me. But I didn't let it show on my face.

"You're asking me to let you all fight without _my_ help," I accused. "What's the difference? I want to be where you are. If I can't be where the fighting is, helping...then the way I see it, there's only one other option."

Edythe gazed back into my face for one long moment. I wondered if she felt she was seeing me clearly for the first time. What kind of person I was beneath it all—a monster who'd do anything, say anything, no matter how cruel or manipulative, to make sure things went his way.

Because I suddenly knew I was prepared to go further. I would beg, I would plead, I would remind her of everything I felt when she left me before. I'd make her feel so guilty she couldn't do anything else.

It was all there, ready in my mind. I really was a monster. Not a vampire or a werewolf, but the kind of slimy creature an ordinary guy who knew his girlfriend loved him as much as anything in the world had the power to be.

Edythe stared back up at me for a moment longer. Then the pained expression faded, suddenly sharpening into resolve. She reached into her jacket to pull out her cell phone.

"Archie?" she said, turning away from me. "Could you do me a favor, and come watch Beau for a little while?" For a second I was sure she knew the onslaught of shameless manipulation I was planning and meant to get away, but then she said, "I need to speak to Jessamine."

She closed the phone with a snap.

"What is it?" I asked uncertainly, almost afraid of the answer.

"If there is going to be a change in our strategy, I will have to run it by Jessamine first. But I am sure I will be able to persuade her. They don't really need me to be there." Edythe's tone was light, but the look in her eyes looked more like resignation.

I didn't know what to say. I felt like I should apologize, maybe take it back.

But I wouldn't. My mouth stayed firmly closed.

Edythe sighed, and I felt her arm wind around my back. I turned automatically, putting my arms around her, and burying my face in her hair. I drank in her scent, trying not to think, but the guilt still prowled at the back of my mind, like a live animal, ready to tear out my insides.

"They'll get along without me," she murmured, and I wondered if it was me she was trying to convince, or herself.

"We could just both go," I suggested softly. "We could both help." I spoke as though reminding myself that this was partly her decision would lessen my own guilt.

Edythe smiled, and pulled back just enough to look into my face. She reached up a finger to stroke my cheek. "It will work out this way. Eleanor will be happy—more fun for her. I'm a little disappointed to miss out, but—what is best for you is my first priority."

I broke slightly then. I stared down into her face, and my voice cracked. "I feel like I'm making you choose between me and your family," I whispered.

Edythe's finger moved to trace the bridge of my nose, then my lips. "They'll be fine," she murmured. "They know what they're doing."

"Yeah," said a voice from the door. "We _will_ be fine—except you're going to miss out. A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for excitement enough to last a century."

Archie had appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, arms folded and a sour expression on his face.

"Archie," Edythe said, eyes unmoving from my face, her finger tracing on the edge of my ear. Then she reluctantly pulled away, though not before she leaned up and kissed me lightly on the cheek.

"I'll be back," she promised, then in a moment, she was gone.

I didn't meet Archie's gaze as he walked leisurely into the room and sank down into a chair with a sigh. He tilted back on two legs to what seemed a dangerous degree.

I didn't say anything. Again, I felt like I ought to apologize—putting all of them at greater risk for my own selfish reasons. But I didn't. I felt like I couldn't apologize unless I was ready to take it back, and I wasn't.

Archie gave me a sideways look. "You're really worrying over nothing, you know."

I scowled. "Was perpetual optimism part of the deal for the Porsche?"

Archie flashed a grin. "Nope, that's just natural. It's part of why Jessamine and I are so compatible. Opposites attract and all that."

Archie brought the chair legs to the floor, deliberately with a loud clump. He looked me in the eye. "That's what's got you so freaked out, right? Some stuff Jess has said?"

He sighed. "Look, relax, dude. Jess _always_ overcompensates, it's just who she is. If we had an army of a hundred against ten, she'd still be trying to find us more ways to give us the upper hand."

I'd returned to the table and slumped down in a chair opposite him. I glared at the wood grain. "Maybe that's why she's still alive," I muttered.

My eyes suddenly rose back to his, and I heard myself saying, a little louder than normal, "Look, I know you have the advantage here with the wolves' help. You're all experienced fighters, and you'll probably have surprise on your side. I get it. But no matter what Edythe says, it's still a battle, where there are going to be monsters trying to kill you. I think you should try to get every advantage you can. But if she won't let me be there...If she went, and I stayed...and something happened to her when my being there could have stopped it..."

I hesitated, trailing off. "I didn't have a choice," I muttered finally.

We were both quiet for a long minute. Finally, Archie shrugged. "Like I said, you're worrying about nothing. We'll be fine. Who knows, if I were in your shoes, maybe I'd do the same thing, but it doesn't matter. I already told Jess and the others Edythe's not going to go, so they've probably worked out some alternate arrangements, not that there's really much to arrange."

Archie still seemed unconcerned. He wasn't even slightly annoyed, and even seemed sympathetic.

For some reason, Archie's attitude took all the angry defensiveness out of me, and suddenly I slumped.

"I'm a loser," I said hollowly. "A total loser. And I was trying so hard not to be."

Archie laughed. "Nah, you're just overprotective and prone to overreaction as my sister is. The only way I'll call you a loser is if—" He looked at me, and his eyes turned just a touch more serious. "If is, after all this, you either ditch her, or you die on her."

"First one's not likely," I muttered.

Archie grinned, immediately relaxed again. "So concentrate on the second one."

He stretched out his legs under the table, rocking back on two legs again. "Speaking of. If you want Charlie to let you out of the house again, you might want to go get cleaned up. He's going to be back here in fifteen minutes and, no offense, but you look like you just woke up with a hangover."

"Thanks a lot," I muttered, but I turned obediently toward the stairs.

It didn't take long for me to splash some water on my face, run a comb through my hair, and put on some fresh clothes. I was already downstairs working on dinner when Charlie walked through the door. He didn't seem at all displeased when he caught sight of Archie lounging at the table in Edythe's usual place.

"Hey, kid," he called, smile stretching almost as wide as his face. "How you been?"

"Not bad," Archie said, grinning. "You hear about the party last night?"

Charlie grinned back as he headed to the sink to wash his hands. "I sure did. Hard not to, actually, it's all anyone was talking about today. Impressive, maybe you should consider going into entertainment for a career. Bet you've got a heck of a cleanup job ahead of you, though."

Archie sighed. "Sure do. It was worth it, though." He was probably already done with it.

"Where's Edythe?" Charlie asked, a little grudgingly. "She's not out there doing cleanup without you, is she?" There was a little too much satisfaction and not enough disapproval in his tone, I thought.

Archie shook his head. "Nah, she's getting ready for the hiking trip." He shrugged nonchalantly. "It's a thing we've done every year when school lets out. We spend a weekend up in the mountains...Actually, that's kind of why I'm here, since it turns out I'm not going this year."

"Why not?" Charlie asked, turning back and looking concerned.

Archie patted his leg. "I've been getting some bad cramps lately. It's okay, but sometimes it seizes up and I can't walk for a while...I didn't think I should be out hiking right now, and Carine agreed with me."

Charlie frowned. "You're too young to be getting charlie horses. What does Carine say? You think it's a deficiency in your diet?"

Archie nodded. "Yeah, she's been giving me supplements, and I think they've been helping, but I'm trying to take it easy, just in case."

Archie sighed dramatically. "Course, it _is_ the first time I'm missing it...A couple of the others volunteered to stay with me, but, I told them they should all go have a good time. But if I had someone to keep me company for an all-night COPS marathon..." He turned his eyes on me.

It was obvious where this was going, and Charlie was immediately behind the idea. "That's the spirit. I know that's hard, but they'd want you to have a good time anyway. You and Beau should make a time of it."

"Sure," I said, realizing a beat late that Archie was setting up my alibi for Saturday. "I'm cool with that."

"Great," Archie said brightly. "They're leaving tomorrow, and I've got ideas for the whole weekend."

"Just don't go too wild with your parents out of town," Charlie warned.

"Don't worry," Archie said, and the smile on his face was so pure, the biggest cynic couldn't have helped but believe him. "Nothing too extreme. Pizza, movies...On Saturday we can drive out somewhere—one of the nearby cities. Carine okayed that, she said it'll be good for me to get some exercise without overdoing it and being within range of medical care just in case."

"Not Seattle," Charlie said quickly, frowning. Though ironically, we both knew Seattle would be safer than Forks come Saturday.

Archie shook his head. "Nah, Carine said we couldn't go there—I was thinking more Olympia. There's a burger joint I've been wanting to try, and we can catch a movie...maybe do some sightseeing. We'll probably be gone all day."

"Good," Charlie said. "Have a fun time. When do you want him to come over?"

Archie shrugged. "Just tomorrow evening sometime, maybe around six."

"I'll be there," I inserted. I was glad Archie was driving the deception, because I was no good at it, and I hadn't thought about it at all.

Edythe returned not much long after that. She didn't show any surprise when Charlie wished her and the rest of the family a nice trip and she thanked him politely. She said they were leaving early in the morning, and she left before the usual time, Archie going with her.

When they were gone, I turned toward the stairs.

"You can't be tired," Charlie said, shaking his head. "When you say you aren't a partier, you mean it."

Edythe was up waiting for me in my room, and it was about an hour later we slipped out into the night for yet another night of training.

It was hard to believe the battle already loomed so close—there was tomorrow, and then it would be Saturday. The day where this entire nightmare could finally be behind us, or else all my worst nightmares came true.

"So," I said from Edythe's back, as she raced through the dark forest. "Archie's actually going hunting with the rest of them tomorrow night. So instead it's going to be just you and me. You know, we could have just said you were all leaving Saturday, and we could have stayed at my house."

"We will want to begin our preparations first thing in the morning, likely before your father is up," Edythe said. "This makes things simpler."

"Yeah, but," I began, frowning. "Your house doesn't have a bed."

Edythe considered. "I could fetch one if you like. I was going to have one brought in when you stayed there before, but Archie said it would irritate you."

I shrugged. "It's okay, we can spend the night on the couch in front of the TV, just like Archie told Charlie...any movies you want to see? I'm guessing you wouldn't be a big fan of COPS."

Edythe smiled a little. "Anything, so long as it's not _Romeo and Juliet._ "

I realized I was feeling a bit better than I had earlier that evening. Now that the immediacy of what I had done was beginning to fade, the guilt didn't feel quite so sharp. And I felt Edythe and Archie's confidence beginning to affect me too. I was almost starting to feel that—maybe—everything could turn out all right. It didn't in any way change what I'd done, but if everything did work out, then maybe I could at least forget about it.

When we got to the clearing, everyone else was already there. Jessamine seemed to be readying herself for another night of lessons, and Eleanor rolled her shoulders enthusiastically, apparently looking forward to it.

The sky was brighter tonight, the moon visible through the gauzy clouds, and so this time I could easily make out the wolves sitting around the edge of the practice ring, spread far apart to view it from different angles.

However, I couldn't help but notice there were fewer than the previous night.

"Where are the others?" I asked.

"The plural psyche," Edythe reminded me. "If one sees something, they've all seen it. One would be enough, but Samantha doesn't trust us, so she didn't want to send only Julie Black on her own, though she volunteered. So she brought Emma and Quil along to satisfy Sam. I guess you could say Emma and Quil are sort of like Jules's..."

"Henchmen?" I suggested. "Flunkies?"

Edythe smiled a little. "I was going to say lieutenants, but I supposed those work, too."

I considered this for a long minute. "She would have come alone," I mused. "She trusts you."

"She trusts us not to try to kill her," Edythe allowed. "That's about all, though."

"Are...you going to be participating tonight?" I asked, feeling the guilt needle me again. She wasn't going to be at the actual fight. I probably couldn't imagine how hard this was for her.

"I'm going to help Jessamine with a few demonstrations," she said. "Today she wants to focus on unequal matchups, how to deal with multiple attackers."

I stared at her for a second, then I looked away, nodding slowly. Trying to keep my face blank, even as my stomach twisted viciously.

Even with the wolves, they were still outnumbered. And I was making it worse.

My eyes instead focused on the field, where the practice fights had already begun. However, I couldn't look there for long, as the faces of my family seemed to morph instead to wild newborns, and the mock fights became deadly and real. Very soon, they would be.

I tried to force myself to find some calm, not to think about it, but when my eyes drifted, they came instead to rest on the wolves. There was Emma, with her gray fur and dark speckled back, and Quil with rich brown fur like chocolate. And of course Jules, who I could always distinguish from the rest of the pack by her unusual russet fur. She turned her head at that moment and caught my eye, and her mouth split into the same happy, almost puppy-like grin of before, tongue hanging out, eyes scrunching the way they did when she was human.

It seemed like I was over my automatic, instinctual fear of the wolves. I realized, looking at them now, they were more like oversized dogs than anything, hardly anything to lose sleep over. Their individual personalities were even noticeable if you were watching for it. Emma sat quietly and patiently, watching the fight serenely. Quil gave an occasional twitch and sniff, as though with disdain, or possibly jealousy, as if she were wishing she could join the fight herself.

The wolves were all so young. Just girls, really, with a responsibility they hadn't asked for thrust upon them. Now they would be out there, risking their lives in a fight I was making that much harder on them.

I couldn't hold Jules's gaze, and I looked away.

However, I saw a motion out of the corner of my eye, and when I looked back, I saw Jules had gotten to her feet and trotted over to where Edythe and I stood on the edge of things.

"Julie," Edythe acknowledged politely with a dip of her head.

Jules didn't look at her, instead all her focus on me. She lowered her head to my level to peer into my face with her searching dark eyes. She cocked her head to one side.

I knew Edythe was about to give a translation, but I didn't really need one.

"I'm fine," I said with a shrug, trying to sound nonchalant.

Jules growled, a frustrated sound.

I thought I could guess that one, too, but I glanced at Edythe.

"She says you shouldn't be worried."

Jules finally did look at Edythe, and she rolled her black eyes, and let out a kind of grunt that sounded exasperated.

That one I really wasn't sure about and raised an eyebrow at Edythe.

Edythe shook her. "Apparently she's unsatisfied with my translation."

"So what did she really say?"

Edythe smiled a little. "She said, 'You're worrying over nothing again. Only idiots worry when there's nothing to worry about.' It seemed rather impolite, so I edited."

I turned back to Jules with a half smile, but the anxiety was still bubbling in my stomach. "Obviously you aren't worrying enough, so I'm doing if for you." I wanted my tone to sound light and joking, but I spoke so low, my tone had a desperate edge to it, even to my own ears.

Jules snorted, and I could make out the disdain.

Edythe had been watching us, but then her eyes flickered to the field. She sighed. "Jessamine's ready for my help. You'll be okay without a translator?"

I shrugged. "I'll manage."

Edythe hesitated for a moment longer, her eyes on me, with an expression that impossible to read. Then she turned and slipped away over toward where Jessamine and the others waited across the clearing.

Jules started to head back over, then paused as she noticed I wasn't following.

"You go ahead," I said, slowly lowering myself onto the ground to sit with my folded arms resting on my knees. It was cold and uncomfortable, but I ignored it. "I don't really feel like watching."

Jules cocked her head again questioningly, and I figured she was probably wondering why I'd bothered to come if I didn't want to see the practice. I wondered what she would say if she knew what I had done. Probably deduct every one of the man points I'd earned—a long way to fall from being Superman, Hugh Jackman-level. Or maybe she'd be happy as Eleanor, at the prospect of having more leeches to kill. I wondered if the pack really loved killing vampires that much, or if it was just part of their bravado.

Jules looked back at the fight for a second, then turned around and trotted back to me, and dropped down on the ground beside me with a rumbling sigh.

"Go," I said. "Don't worry about me."

Jules just snorted again and stubbornly laid her head down on her paws.

I sighed, tilting my head back to gaze up at the sky, and the bright silver clouds illuminated by the moon, to keep my eyes from the mock fight. I'd seen more than enough already. A chilly breeze curled through the clearing, making me shiver.

Jules scooted closer to me, pressing her warm fur against my left side.

"Er—thanks," I muttered. However, it was a few minutes before I finally gave in and leaned against her shoulder. I found I was immediately warmer and more comfortable that way.

I watched the dark clouds roll slowly across the sky, dimming and brightening as thicker patches crossed the moon and went on.

I patted Jules's neck absently, and I said suddenly, maybe just because I suddenly felt like talking, "You know, I always wanted a dog. But my mom was allergic. She said we could get a cat, but I was never big on cats."

Jules's body shook under me as she gave a low, barking laugh.

"Are you really this relaxed about Saturday, or is this all a show?" I asked.

Jules turned her head so I could see her eyes roll.

We sat in silence for a long minute. Then, slowly, I leaned my head down against her neck and I said softly, so softly I barely heard myself, "Really, Jules. Please...don't die."

She didn't laugh this time or look disdainful. Instead, she turned her head again to look at me. Her dark eyes held nothing but certainty. She bumped her muzzle gently, comfortingly against my neck.

I patted her head, and then she turned her head back toward the mock fight in the distance.

I sighed and found myself settling deeper into her fur to shield myself as another chilly breeze blew through the clearing. Funny how when she was in wolf form, we got along so well. Things felt less complicated, like they had in the early days of our friendship back then. It was easy, effortless, more so than it had been the last few times we'd met when she was human. And all this time, I'd thought it was the wolf-thing that had been the source of everything.

The killing games continued in the clearing, and I kept my eyes focused on the pale, hazy moon.

* * *

A/N: And, there's another one. I think maybe we're getting out of the 'eh' chapters now. (I felt like the last few chapters were fine in the original, but for this version, the inspiration seemed a bit lacking for some reason.)

On a side note, not too long ago I noticed another ffnet author mentioned a site called 'Ficsave.' It apparently allows you to download fanfiction from this site in an ebook format (either .mobi or .epub) to your ereader. Of course I had to check it out, and holy cow, I think it might be life changing.

All you have to do is go to the site, copy and paste the url to the fanfic you want, select which format you want it to be in, then hit 'Download.' The site generates a full ebook of the fanfiction, including a title page with the fanfiction summary, and a table of contents that links you to any chapter you want to go to. All I can say is—wow. (All those years of dodgily copying and pasting individual chapters one by one into a text document and then wrestling with the font size...)

Anyway, thanks so much for reading, and for all your thoughts and support! If you have a moment, let me know what you thought, and see you next time! C:

Posted 11/7/17


	20. Patience

A/N: Hey!

As you might have had some inkling of from the last chapter, this chapter's going to be somewhat different from the original for a few reasons, which I'll discuss at the end. (I'm sorry to anyone who was looking forward to this chapter if it's not what you expected, but again, I'll try to talk about why I felt like it would be this way instead.)

Hope you enjoy, and see you at the end! :J

* * *

Chapter 19: Patience

Everything was ready.

I'd thrown some stuff in a duffel for my weekend stay at the Cullen's, and as it turned out, the battle was going to be happening on the day of the concert of the tickets I'd given Edythe and Archie for graduation, so I'd passed them onto Allen, Becca, and McKayla. At least that would get them out of town, even if I couldn't evacuate everyone. Bonnie had borrowed an old fishing boat off one of the other elders, and invited Charlie down for some open sea fishing in the morning before the game started. Carol and Brittany were staying behind to protect La Push, and even though they were both only thirteen, Charlie would probably be safer than just about anyone left in Forks.

For some reason, I felt calmer than I had the previous two nights. Maybe because everything was decided and there was no going back now. Or maybe it was because recent events had made up my mind once and for all—a part of me, a part I hadn't wanted to acknowledge, had still been clinging to my existence as a human being, terrified of an unknown future.

But I was determined now, determined that this would never happen again. Determined that I would be Edythe's partner next time, like Jessamine and Archie, and she would never have to choose between me and her family again. It wasn't about living forever or being good-looking or powerful—I knew to become immortal would mean giving up seeing my parents, maybe even hurting them by staying away to keep them safe from what I was, from this dangerous world I would enter. But I was ready to become a part of their world—Edythe may be willing to make all the sacrifices necessary to keep me human, but _I_ wasn't willing she make those sacrifices.

I had made my choice, and I chose Edythe—I chose to do everything I could to make her happy.

We were both quiet as Edythe drove my truck down to her house. I sat in the passenger's seat, staring thoughtfully out the window.

When the truck came to a halt and Edythe cut the engine short, I blinked, coming out of my reverie.

Edythe smiled as she turned to me. "Ready for a night of movies and Mountain Dew? I know I'm not much replacement for Archie, but I'll do my best."

I casually reached across the seat and slid an arm around her shoulders. "Actually I like this arrangement fine."

Edythe laughed a little, turning in my arm toward me. Our faces were a little closer together than I expected.

Edythe took advantage of the situation, leaning up to press her lips to mine. I leaned in, hardly able to think. Unlike before, there was no tension or edge of panic. It was at least a minute before she pulled away again, but it was too soon for me.

I tried to object, but she was already climbing out of the truck, and I had no choice but to do the same. Instead of getting out of my own door, I slid over and clumsily followed her out of the driver's side, landing heavily on my feet beside her. Once I made sure I had my balance, I reached forward and took her hand. We didn't get much opportunity to be alone together—truly alone, without her family members mulling about the house, probably hearing our every word, or sitting in class, or with Charlie in the next room over. So I wanted to savor every moment.

Edythe turned to beam at me, squeezing my hand back, then wordlessly turned and led the way into the house. We headed to the main room, and I settled into the white sofa while Edythe headed over to put the first movie in.

"What did Archie pick?" I asked, curious. He'd actually made some pretty good selections last time, and I wondered if he'd found something else obscure that I'd forgotten I liked.

Edythe smiled as she slotted the disc into the player. "Actually, I picked this one," she said, and I thought I caught a bit of a wicked gleam in her eye. "I've been curious to see it. We can watch what Archie chose for you after."

I regarded her suspiciously. "What is it?" I asked cautiously.

Grinning, she picked the empty box off the stand and showed it to me. I squinted at the cover. I wasn't sure whether to laugh or sigh with exasperation. " _Frankenstein?"_

"The 1931 version," she said, grin widening. "The classic, apparently."

I shook my head, the laugh finally winning out. "You know this movie is nothing like the book, right? The book is an introspection and commentary on human nature. This...is a horror flick."

Edythe came to sit beside me, taking up the remote. A half smile was playing on her lips. "But I heard you developed something of a taste for horror movies."

I paused, wondering where she could have gotten that from. Maybe from McKayla. There was some truth in it, though it wasn't exactly like that. During that dark, empty time when Edythe had left, it seemed like I'd done a lot of insisting on horror and slasher flicks. But that was mainly because horror was your best option when you were trying to avoid romance of any kind.

However, preferring not to get into that, I just shrugged. "Whatever you want to watch is okay by me."

"At least it's not vampires," Edythe said. She was clearly grinning now.

I stared at her, incredulous. "You know what's happening tomorrow, right? I didn't know you had such a morbid since of humor. That's usually Archie's department. Or—"

I broke off. The name that had just automatically popped into my mind was one I thought it better not to mention. And yet, it seemed almost natural I would think of Jules. I could still picture us sitting in that movie theater, laughing at the over-the-top gore. Probably no girl I knew had a more morbid sense of humor than Jules, and she'd managed to pass some of it on to me.

If Edythe noticed my hesitation, she didn't show it, and said, "I think a slightly morbid humor is just what we could use right now. Unless you want to watch Dracula instead? It came out the same year and the boy at the shop especially recommended it, so I bought it, too."

I shook my head quickly. " _Frankenstein_ is fine."

I sighed, sliding an arm around behind her shoulders, and she leaned back into my shoulder, intertwining the fingers of her free hand with mine, before she hit the play button.

The movie began with the classic opening sequence. Before the credits, a man, polite and smiling benignly, stepped out from behind a curtain to first deliver a word of caution to the audience.

" _...We are about to unfold the story of Frankenstein, a man of science who sought to create a man after his own image, without reckoning upon God."_

I traced my thumb along the smooth marble of her hand, between her thumb and forefinger. In response, Edythe turned her head halfway to meet my gaze, smiling.

" _It deals with the two great mysteries of creation: life and death."_

Edythe pressed her lips briefly to my jaw before turning back to the film.

" _So if any of you feel that you do not care to subject your nerves to such a strain...well, we warned you."_

My grip on Edythe's hand suddenly tightened. She glanced partway back, surprised. Then, she shifted, and I felt the hand she'd had on the remote before slide around behind my back, and she squeezed my hand reassuringly.

She probably thought I was reacting to the apparently ominous words—if she thought that scared me it was no wonder she never wanted to tell me about Victor. Rather, I'd suddenly been struck with a creeping sense of déjà vu. Edythe had joked she was up for anything but _Romeo and Juliet_ , but as I thought about it, I found the memories of that day return to me—Edythe and I, sitting in the living room, in what would be one of our last days together before she left. Before she left, and I was certain she was never coming back. At the thought, I felt an involuntary shiver down my spine.

Except, I reminded myself, Edythe wasn't leaving this time. I'd fixed it that way, so there was nothing to worry about. Or at least, I kept telling myself that.

"You can't be serious," Edythe murmured, cutting into my thoughts. "Don't tell me they don't even have the same name."

I blinked, looking at the screen, trying to figure out what she could be talking about. Then I remembered.

"Yeah," I said. "Victor Frankenstein is Henry Frankenstein here."

Edythe was incredulous. " _Why?_ "

I shrugged my free shoulder. "Maybe Henry just sounds more like a good guy name than Victor."

Edythe considered that, and I knew she was probably thinking about the other Victor we both knew. "Maybe it's just as well," she muttered.

We watched the film in silence for a while longer, until we reached the reveal that the assistant had bungled things up and used a murderer's brain in the experiment instead of a normal one, and Edythe said with a roll of her eyes, "You weren't kidding. This isn't anything like the book."

The movie seemed to go by quickly. I was glad I was here with Edythe, and we were able to talk and I was able to let my mind momentarily wander from the events that would come tomorrow. However, a couple of times I caught myself wondering what kind of joke Jules would crack about the special effects if she were here. I just shook my head, trying to shake that from my mind.

Before I knew it the film was drawing to a close, the final scene fading to black before the credits began to roll on the black-and-white, slightly twitching screen.

Edythe shook her head. "And so, happily ever after for _Henry_ Frankenstein. If you ask me, things tied up very neatly for someone who got his assistant, a doctor, and a little girl killed. Even if he hadn't attacked the monster and locked it in a dungeon, he's still the one who created it. If there was any justice in the world..."

I smiled. "Maybe we shouldn't watch any more movies. You get too emotionally involved."

Edythe laughed softly. "Well, what would you want to do instead?"

I turned toward her at the same time she turned to look up at me. Abruptly her inhumanly perfect features were inches from mine and, caught off guard, for a moment I couldn't think, caught once again in the familiar trance of her glittering eyes, like scorching pools of liquid gold.

I reached up to stroke a finger along the smooth marble of her face. "I can think of a few things," I murmured.

Edythe gazed back at me, eyes fixed on mine, almost as though she were as mesmerized as I was. My hand touching her cheek shifted to cup it instead, and as I bent my head toward hers, she didn't pull away.

As always, her lips were icy against mine, yet I felt like I was burning. Maybe it was the fact we were alone for once—really alone—but the taste felt different than usual. Less guarded, less restrained. I felt one of her arms slip around my back, and I felt her fingers in my hair. As it often did, my brain had disconnected from my body now—I couldn't think. I pulled myself close, wrapping an arm tightly around her waist until I could feel every stone contour of her granite body against mine—

Suddenly I felt Edythe's hands on my shoulders, pressing me back. "Maybe...not," she suggested lightly, and her eyes were troubled.

I realized I was breathing heavily, and despite the ice of Edythe's skin, I was hot. My mind was in a fog, and for a moment, I couldn't move. Mentally, I counted to five.

At last, sighing very deeply, I slowly unwound my arm and reluctantly drew back, leaving a foot of space between us.

"Too much for your self-control?" I asked. My voice sounded a bit more sullen than I meant it to.

"Well, yes," Edythe said. "Though not in the way you probably mean that."

We were both silent for a moment, staring at the television screen. The movie had ended, and the screen had gone dark.

"Edythe," I said quietly, hesitantly. "I...have a question." I could feel the old familiar splotches of red creeping up my neck, and I kept my eyes fastened to the blank screen.

Edythe read my expression and regarded me warily.

"We're getting married when I'm still human, right?" I asked.

Edythe nodded slowly. "I believe so." She smiled a little ruefully. "I notice you still haven't told anyone. When _are_ you going to tell Charlie and Renée? Some advice, it might go a little better if you don't wait until the day of. Unless the real reason is you still think you might renege..." She was still smiling, but she regarded me with suspicion.

I shook my head, annoyed. I'd given my word, hadn't I? I'd walk through a pit of fire to keep it if I had to—which might actually literally be the case when my mom found out. I could picture volcanoes with less explosive potential.

"I know," I said. "It's got to be soon. We should put a date on it. Let's say—after the battle tomorrow, when we get back. We'll tell them then."

Edythe smiled. "It probably seems like an age away now, after the life-and-death crisis, but it's closer than you think."

I sighed. "And in fact, I think that might turn out to be the real life-and-death crisis."

Edythe laughed again, softly, fingers stroking mine.

"So," I said after a pause. "As I was saying." I could feel my face heating up again, and I kept my eyes fixed on the dark screen. "We're getting married while I'm still human, so I've been kind of wondering..." I licked my suddenly dry lips, then finally blurted it out in a rush. "If—if we're going to have a real honeymoon while I'm human, too."

There. I'd said it. Something I'd been wondering for awhile. I wasn't sure what color my face was, but it could have been on fire.

Silence. Edythe was still as a statue. At last she said, very slowly, "I'm going to change you soon after we get married. That was our agreement. Why would that matter?"

Her voice was polite, careful, but it had a chilly, almost threatening edge to it.

I kept my eyes fastened to the empty screen, as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world. "It's just that," I began, trying desperately to organize the thoughts that had been going through my mind. "When I change, I'm not exactly sure who I'll be or what I'll want most, at least at first. Right now...I love you. You're the most important thing in my life. But when I change...from the sound of it, the thing that's going to be most on my mind is blood. Blood and how to get it. And if that's true, I just don't see how it can be the same."

Edythe finally turned to look at me. I could see the pain and anguish in her eyes, but her features were still hard.

"I...can't say how you'll feel," she said slowly. "How you'll be. It's different for everyone. But I can't risk killing you, Beau. That is the one thing I know." Her eyes turned pleading. "Please, Beau, don't ask me to."

I continued to stare at the screen for a long time. At last, I nodded once, stiffly.

We sat for a minute longer before I said, "Well, I'm just going to take a human moment...then maybe we can start the next movie."

"...Okay," Edythe answered. Her voice was barely above a whisper.

I headed to the bathroom upstairs. I splashed some cold water on my face, then leaned over the sink, staring at my own face in the mirror. I glared at my reflection.

A part of me knew I shouldn't have asked that. But I couldn't help it. What was I going to be when I became vampire? I knew I wanted to be a good one, like Edythe and the rest of the Cullens, and my resolve was set. But that was only for now—how might I be in the future? What if I _did_ become a monster, and I wasn't myself? Maybe I wouldn't want the same things, experience them the same way.

My eyes dropped away from the mirror. They fell instead on my hand, clenched in a fist against the counter top. I noticed a dark bit of leather against my too-pale skin, and a sliver of wood dangling from it—the leather bracelet Jules had given me, along with the wolf figurine.

I wondered why I was noticing that now. Maybe because I knew what Jules would say if she knew what I was thinking.

 _If you're so afraid, then don't change. It's obvious. You wouldn't have to change for me._

I sighed. If only things weren't so complicated with Jules. I could definitely use a best friend to talk to at times like these.

I went back downstairs, feeling much cooler-headed, and determined not to ruin the entire night acting like a dork. I took up a seat right next to Edythe, so close we were touching, and I laced my fingers through hers. When she glanced toward me, I smiled, and she smiled back.

Tomorrow was the battle. If everyone could just make it through that alive, then I could deal with anything else. Even if that meant being forced to be a little patient. After all, no one ever promised that love would be easy—especially not when it involved vampires.

I leaned my head against the top of hers, closing my eyes, and breathing in.

* * *

I fell asleep at some point, and when I awoke I was stretched across the couch, a blanket draped over me and a pillow under my head. I was surprisingly comfortable.

Edythe was sitting in a nearby armchair, and as I sat up blearily, Edythe was immediately at my side.

"How did you sleep?" she asked, taking my hand.

"Not bad...I think," I answered, still a bit out of it.

"I fixed you breakfast," Edythe said. "Nothing fancy, but lots of protein. You'll need your strength. Both for today and tomorrow."

I grimaced. "Why do I need my strength? I'm not going to be doing anything."

"You'll be making the trail today," she said. "Besides, even though it's unnecessary I know you'll be getting a head start on worrying today, and worrying takes a lot of energy."

I ate my eggs and bacon without protest. I gazed out the window thoughtfully, and noticed the way the treetops were swaying with unusual force, and how the clouds scuttled across the sky. It was going to be windy today. I wondered if a storm was on the way.

When I was done, I headed upstairs to get dressed. When I checked a clock on the way, I was startled by how late it was—but then, I had stayed up pretty late. Archie had picked out a pretty good lineup—I'd have to tell him when I got the chance.

The Cullens got back around noon. There was an almost official, business-like atmosphere around them, and I could tell that while they'd been away on the hunt, they'd been gearing up for the battle tomorrow.

Archie seemed a bit subdued, grumbling to himself. There were even more holes in his visions than usual, thanks to the wolves' involvement, and this seemed to aggravate him to no end.

"Be sure to pack some winter gear," he advised. "There's going to be a storm. I can't see how it's going to be where you are, but might want to err on the side of caution." He grimaced. "Augh, listen to me. Any vaguer, and you might as well just turn on the news and watch the local weatherman."

Edythe's eyebrows came together as she saw what he saw. "Snow?" she said. "Isn't it June?"

Archie nodded. "Just up in the mountains, but that's exactly where you're going."

"Great," I muttered. "Just the thing to cheer me up."

The Cullens had all the gear we could ever need and then some—all stuff they'd bought at the Newton's store, as part of their human charade as a family of nature-lovers who loved backpacking up in the mountains. Edythe gathered up a sleeping bag, a small tent, and several packets of dehydrated food, then expertly fit them all in a specialized pack. It was a monster of a bag, and I doubted I could have taken it ten feet without throwing out my back, let alone heave it up an uneven trail for miles, but Edythe shrugged it onto her shoulders as though it weighed ten pounds. Somehow, it looked perfectly natural there.

While Edythe added a couple more things to the already crammed compartments, I noticed Archie had wandered into the garage. For some reason, his arms were folded and his mouth pursed, as though he were considering something. I thought he probably had something to say to Edythe, but his eyes settled on me, and stayed there.

Archie didn't normally intimidate me in the slightest, but as he was normally chattering a mile a minute, his silence as he stood there, leaning against the wall just inside the entrance, had me a little apprehensive.

Edythe ignored him as she turned to me and offered me her cell phone. "You better go ahead and call Julie Black to let her know we'll be ready for her in an hour or so. She knows where to meet us."

Turning my back to Archie, I punched in the familiar number.

Jules wasn't at home, so I got Bonnie, but she promised she'd find someone to pass the message along.

"And don't worry about your dad," she added. "Charlie will be here with me. He'll be safe as anyone in Forks—probably safer."

"I know. Thanks, Bonnie." She was right, I knew Charlie would be safe. It was her daughter and the rest of the Quileute wolves I was worried about.

When I hung up the phone I found Edythe and Archie were staring at each other, and seemed to be having some kind of silent conversation. Or, from the looks on their faces, maybe an argument.

"Um, Bonnie told me to tell you good luck tomorrow," I said, a little awkwardly. I looked between the two of them for a moment, and when neither responded, I finally sighed. "Okay, what is it?"

Edythe finally moved, sighing and rubbing her temples with two fingers, as though she suddenly had a headache. "Are you sure you want to know?" she asked.

Something in Edythe's tone made me suddenly not sure, but my curiosity got the best of me and I turned to Archie. "What?" I asked again. "Is it something about the battle?"

Archie shook his head, as though in disappointment. "No way, man, this is _way_ more important than that."

"Um, okay." I glanced at Edythe for some hint.

Archie gave Edythe a pointed look. "Think you could leave us alone for a sec? We have...guy stuff to talk about."

Edythe looked slightly incredulous. "Archie, can't this discussion wait? If you even have to have it at all."

Archie folded his arms across his chest again, scowling. "Oh, I've waited," he said in a low, tremulous voice. "As you already know. And waited, and _waited_. This is probably the most patience I've ever shown in my entire existence. I've been discreet, I've been quiet. But there comes a time when, bam—the store of patience is all used up, and all that's left is action."

"You have been patient," Edythe admitted grudgingly. "And shown discretion I never knew you were capable of. I'll have to hold you to a higher standard from now on." She added, "Of course, it doesn't change the fact that I think we would all be better off if you learned how to reign in your perpetual need to meddle in my affairs."

Archie shrugged. "Yeah, well, unfortunately for you, being the incurable busybody that I am, I think we both know that's not going to happen. So, that means the immediate future's only got two possible ways of going that I'm seeing." He held up one finger. "One, you accept this conversation's going to happen with good grace, and just give us a bit of privacy, like I asked." He held up the second finger. "Or two—you stay here and try to stop it, and fail."

Edythe stood where she was a minute, arms folded, almost looking ready for a fight. However, after a moment, she sighed in defeat, and turned toward the garage door. She leaned up to kiss me on the cheek as she passed, and whispered in my ear, "You know he won't give up until he gets his way. Just listen politely, and then we can go ahead with our plans."

For some reason, this slightly cryptic remark left me feeling a little alarmed, but before I'd mustered the wherewithal to beg her to stay, she was out the door and gone.

With a deep sigh, Archie's shoulders suddenly slumped. He turned away from me, and went to sink down on the edge of the hood of his Porsche.

"Come here a second, would you, Beau?" His tone was heavy, and serious. "I think it's about time you and I had a talk, man to man."

I definitely didn't like the sound of that, but at the look on Archie's face, I found I couldn't say no. Warily, I went and took up a place on the Porsche hood not too far from him.

Archie was leaning forward, elbows on his knees and I found myself mirroring the posture.

"I _was_ going to wait until you told me," he began. "But, as that's obviously not going to happen..."

"Tell—tell you what?" I said, trying to keep my voice casual.

Archie gave me a sideways look. "Just one question," he said. "Who's going to be best man?"

Silence, for a minute. Then I groaned loudly, pressing a hand to my suddenly aching head. I should have known we couldn't keep this from Archie.

"How long have you known?" I asked with resignation.

Archie raised his eyebrows. "When did you make the decision?"

My mouth twisted in a grimace. Was there nothing private in this world?

I muttered something unintelligible, then said, "Yeah, okay, it's true. Edythe convinced me. And of course you can be best man if you want. Probably isn't going to be a whole lot to see, though."

Archie made a face. "Yeah, I'm seeing your lavish Vegas venue now. Complete with seedy-looking minister doing the vows."

I perked up a little. "Really?" I said. That didn't sound half so bad as I'd been picturing. However, after a second I morosely shook my head. Edythe had thrown the idea of Vegas out there, but while that would suit me just fine, I figured if I was going to be getting something out of this deal, then my sacrifice should be a little bit bigger than that. A little.

"That," Archie said as he watched my face, "or something pathetically small. Almost sad. Your parents, us, and the minister."

"Small and sad," I said. "Just how I like it."

I eyed Archie suspiciously. I knew him well enough to know that he was going somewhere with this. "What?" I said. "Don't tell me you're going to ask me to let _you_ plan it. A graduation bash is one thing, but I think this is the maid of honor's department."

Archie shook his head. "Nah. Not that I wouldn't do an amazing job—but if you don't go to Vegas, Edythe will probably officially name Eleanor or Jess maid of honor, or maybe both of them, then just take care of all the behind-the-scenes work herself. This kind of thing just isn't Eleanor or Jess's area of expertise."

I nodded. In a way, that didn't really surprise me.

Archie paused, then slowly turned his head to stare at me for a long minute. At last he said, "Seems like Edythe is probably going to keep it simple—almost stupidly simple. Just a few sparse decorations, a spartan guest list of just a few immediate family members. A very short ceremony, not much of a reception..."

"That sounds good to me."

Archie studied me a minute more, then suddenly sighed as though I were being dense. He leaned in and slung an arm over my neck.

"Look, Beau, my man," he said. "Can I just give you some advice?"

I had a feeling he was going to give it to me whether I agreed or not, so I said reluctantly, "Fine."

"Look," he said, "See—we both know Edythe always wants to give you what you want, and goes way out of her way to do it. But in this case...I think you should insist on something different. A girl's wedding is her dream day. It's more for her than for you. I'm not saying to push for something huge and overly extravagant, because she probably wouldn't want that either, but—you know, she _was_ born in 1901, and if she had a choice, she'd probably like something traditional. Not that she'd ever tell you that."

He turned to look me in the eye. "Trust me, I know you don't like formal occasions—but do it for Edy. Don't cut corners."

Archie had gotten me right between my armor plates and he knew it. I always felt like it was always Edythe giving to me—making sacrifices, giving me everything, and I never gave anything back. It was true, a girl should get to choose what her wedding was like, and Edythe probably would like a traditional wedding. With everyone we knew there, a white wedding gown, all the ceremonies of the cutting of the cake, the full version of the reading of the vows... It would finally be a way for me to give Edythe something she wanted, instead of the other way around.

I felt sweat break out on my palms at the mental image and I couldn't answer.

Archie slapped me lightly on the arm. "Just something to think about," he said, sliding casually off the Porsche hood, hands in his pockets. "Up to you, of course. Your decision."

He headed over toward the exit of the garage, then called, "Okay, Edy! You can come back now!"

I didn't doubt Edythe had heard every word of the conversation, and that suspicion was confirmed when she appeared in the entrance of the garage entryway, arms folded and looking extremely irritated. She had left the pack outside.

"Edythe—" I began, but Edythe cut me off, glaring at Archie.

"Why don't you mind your own business?" she demanded.

Archie was openly grinning now, and looked completely unabashed. "Because it just so happens that your business is more interesting than my business." He added, "Welp, I guess we've got a battle to think about. You might not be in it, but you two better get your heads in the game, just in case. See you before long." And with that, face still plastered with a smug, triumphant grin, he turned and sauntered out of the garage.

Edythe glared after him a minute, then turned back to me, looking deeply apologetic. She quickly crossed the garage to stand beside me. Taking in my guilty, uncertain expression, she took my hand and said earnestly, "Don't pay the slightest attention to him, Beau. Archie just likes things to be big and flashy. I want what _you_ want. This is _our_ day."

"Edythe—" I tried again, but she leaned up to lightly press her lips to mine to halt my protest. When she pulled back, her eyes were inches from mine, filling my entire vision and making it impossible to think clearly.

"It will be our day," Edythe repeated in a murmur. "I want whatever will make you happy." She laughed softly. "We can go to Vegas, Beau, if that's what you prefer. Just so long as we are bound by at least one human measure, I don't care where it is, or how it's done. I don't want you to worry about anything."

She leaned up to kiss me again, then pulled away, though she kept her fingers entwined with mine. I decided to leave the topic for now, though I knew we would be coming back to it later. I still wasn't fully mentally prepared to argue hard for a traditional, large formal wedding. But I would work myself up to it. Even if Archie was operating under his own ulterior motives, he was right.

This was my chance to give Edythe something she wanted. It was an opportunity I knew, if I passed it up, I'd regret for eternity.

Archie suddenly reappeared, popping his head back in. "By the way, when are you going to get the ring?"

Edythe gnashed her teeth. She grabbed something so fast I didn't see what it was and hurled it at him.

Archie casually dodged, then said, "I'm just saying."

I'd gotten up off the car, and put an arm around Edythe's waist. "That's true," I said slowly. "We really should go ring shopping before long..."

"We don't need to think about that right now," Edythe assured me, still glowering at Archie. "In fact, we really should get going."

Even as she started to pull me toward the garage exit, I found myself trying to think of what kind of ring would suit Edythe. And abruptly, a thought crossed my mind—something I couldn't believe I hadn't thought of until now.

My grandmother, Gran, had passed away quite a few years ago, back when I was barely out of diapers. Before Gramps had followed her years later, he'd shown me the engagement ring he'd given her, and had passed it on to me. He'd told me I could give it to the girl I proposed to. At the time, girls and marriage and been the last thing on my mind, so after rolling my eyes and some overexaggerated embarrassed groaning, I'd taken it and put it somewhere I figured I wouldn't have to look at it again. I'd forgotten all about it until just now.

I tried to recall what it had looked like. I thought I remembered a delicate silver band, and just a small diamond. The more I thought about it, the more I couldn't help but think it would be perfect for Edythe.

Archie's face went blank for a second. "Oh," he said. "You're right, she'll love that."

Edythe, who saw the vision as soon as Archie had it, couldn't quite curb her curiosity. "A family heirloom?"

"Argh!" I groaned, pressing a hand to my head. "Sometimes that is so _frustrating_!"

Archie grinned at my expression, while Edythe looked immediately penitent.

"Sorry," she said.

I sighed. "It's not you." It was my turn to give Archie a sour look.

Edythe slipped a hand under my arm. "We'll talk about it later," she said. "I really do think we ought to get going. Or a certain dog will no doubt be irritated...Impatient people generally do not like to be kept waiting."

I couldn't help it, and I found myself smiling a bit at that.

"Remember to take your coat," Archie called after me as we left the garage and Edythe went to retrieve the pack. His voice was a touch more serious now. "I may not be seeing everything, but from the looks of it, I think it's going to be...unseasonably cold."

* * *

A/N: Hey! (Yeah, I know, you all want to kill me. Just remember, if I'm dead, this story isn't ever going to be finished.)

So, quite a bit different from the original this time, and that particular scene was quite a bit shorter. (So much so, I decided to add one of the scenes from the next chapter with this chapter here so it wouldn't be too short.)

There are a couple of reasons for the change here—firstly, Beau has already agreed to marry Edythe as of the end of New Moon, so there's not really a need for them to make any kind of deal here. But more importantly, the gender swap makes Beau different enough from Bella that I couldn't see him attempting to push Edythe in the same way Bella tries to do with Edward. (For a guy to keep pressuring a girl when she doesn't want to, no matter what her reasons, it's going to come across as a very strong black mark against the guy's character, or at least, I'm sure Beau would feel that way. And to be honest, in the case of Bella, I always felt like she was also crossing a line in this scene—to attempt to coerce someone you care about into doing something they feel would be a risk to your safety always seemed very disingenuous and selfish to me. Of course, the scene is necessary for setting up the plot of Breaking Dawn, not to mention a selfish disregard for her own safety has always been an integral part of Bella's character, so I guess I can't critique the scene too much, at least in that light.)

So, I hope that makes sense. Trying to keep things natural based on the swapped characters' personalities, I find some things do have to be altered or tweaked a little, and my own tastes when it comes to a story is probably going to play into it a bit, too. (Particularly when/if we get to Breaking Dawn.)

Oh, on a complete side note—also found I had to untangle a bit of a canonical conundrum I'd created for myself with something from New Moon. I'd chosen to gender-swap Bella's Grandma Marie to be Grandpa Marty (Bella's Gran had quite a bit to do with Bella, since Renee lived with her for a while, and she didn't pass away until Bella was twelve), but I realized that in Life and Death, Beau mentions that he's named after his Grandpa Beaufort, who died shortly before Beau was born, prompting Renee to name him after him. (Implying that the grandfather who died was on Renee's side, not Charlie's.) I think the intent there is that Beau's grandparents were also outside the genderswap, not just Renee and Charlie, which actually fits because Bella's grandfather on her mother's side is the only grandparent left unnamed in the Twilight official illustrated guide.

However, there really needed to be a Grandpa Marty to make the opening scene in New Moon Reimagined work (a grandpa that was alive and had a relationship with Beau for awhile before passing away), so my explanation, which didn't actually come into play in this chapter, is that the Grandpa Beaufort Beau was named after was really his great-grandfather [Grandpa Marty's father]—Beau just refers to him as 'Grandpa,' because his mother always referred to him as grandpa without differentiating, and that's how Beau has grown up thinking of him.

Anyway, sorry for the overly long author's note, and again, hope this chapter wasn't too much of a letdown—as always, thank you all so much for reading and for staying with me this long, it means a lot. If you have a moment, let me know what you thought, and see you next time! C:

Posted 12/4/17


	21. Catch-22

A/N: Hey guys! Made it back yet again. C:

So, looks like it's announcement time again. As usual, I'll leave it to the end. (I talked about the possibility of a Breaking Dawn Reimagined back in the author's notes of New Moon, and I've tried to answer on an individual basis any questions about whether there was going to be one, but now that we're getting fairly close to the end of Eclipse, I figured it was about time to make a general announcement here, in order to clarify where things are and the plan going forward.)

To those who celebrate it, a belated Merry Christmas! C: Hope you enjoy, and see you at the end!

* * *

Chapter 20: Catch-22

It was twice as far to the clearing as usual; Edythe took a long detour, making certain my scent wouldn't come anywhere near the path Jules would be taking to mask my scent later.

I was on Edythe's back naturally, with the bulky backpack strapped around my shoulders, but Edythe had winched it in such a way she still took most of its weight.

She came to a stop at the farthest end of the clearing, then let me down, taking the pack from me and slinging it casually over one shoulder.

"Okay," she said. "Walk north. Make sure you touch as much of the trees and foliage as you can. Archie knows the path they'll take, and we'll intersect it before long."

I stood there a minute, not wanting to admit I hadn't the slightest clue which direction was north.

"That way," she said at last, pointing, and I heard the smile in her voice.

"Right," I said. Staring straight ahead, I walked into the woods, and the shadow of the trees immediately blotted out the warm sunlight above.

It was chillier here, and I was glad I had my jacket, and that my winter coat was stored rolled up in Edythe's enormous pack. Even though it was June, I had little hope Archie would turn out to be wrong about the snow. The wind still hadn't let up, and whipped furiously between the trees, rattling the leaves. Strangely, I found myself thinking of the old Quileute legends—it was almost like there was an army of spirit warriors nearby, kicking up a howling in preparation for a battle.

I kept my hand out, walking very slowly and putting my bare skin against everything that came close enough. Rough tree bark, blowing ferns, moss-covered rock—anything.

Edythe maintained about twenty yards of distance from me, so her scent wouldn't interfere with mine, walking in a parallel line.

I carefully put my hands on everything, trying to make the trail stronger. "Anything else I should do?" I called.

"That's perfect," Edythe called back. "Just keep doing what you're doing."

"Let me know if I can do anything else."

We went a short way more in silence when Edythe said, "Really, don't let what Archie said bother you. Just tell him to mind his own business and butt out."

I knew now was my chance to stand up and be a man, start figuring out what kind of wedding Edythe would want, and insist on it. But as an image of me in a formal suit—looking about the same level of awkward as Charlie, and trying to stutter out the full vows after a grave-faced minister—inserted itself uninvited into my thoughts, I wilted and couldn't get it out. Instead, I concentrated on a fern I'd reached out to grab, staring down at it as though it were the most fascinating thing in the world. I shrugged.

"Really," Edythe said again, firmly. "The only daydream of mine is marrying you. The particulars don't matter. I want what _you_ want."

I glanced at her, then looked away. What I would want was a quick trip to Vegas without all the finery and attention. If not that, and we absolutely had to include people—only my parents and her family. Short and with the least possible opportunity for me to trip over something and make an idiot of myself.

And yet...those options which I'd taken some comfort in entertaining before didn't sound quite so good now. Not when I knew there were other choices that could potentially make Edythe very happy. I felt like I was in a catch-22—on the one hand, every fiber of my being rebelled against the idea of a traditional wedding, and the attention and finery and everything else that went with it. On the other, would I ever have a chance like this again, to give Edythe something I knew she would want?

I mentally grumbled to myself. I knew I would give in. No, I'd probably actively go to Carine and the others to make sure it was a traditional wedding they thought Edythe would like. But I wasn't completely mentally ready to throw myself into that just yet, so I just shrugged again.

It took me a while to reach the spot where the newborn army would be certain to cross my trail. Edythe kept pace with me, never showing the slightest sign of impatience.

When we headed back, Edythe led a bit and directed, to make sure I stayed on the same path I took going in. For the most part I was careful where I put my feet, but when we neared the clearing and I saw the bright light up ahead, I got distracted, and I caught my toe on a tree root. I managed to get a hand out to catch myself on a low-hanging branch before I could fall, but one of the twigs sticking out gouged into my palm.

I turned my hand over to examine the damage and grimaced as I saw I'd managed to draw blood.

"Are you okay?" Edythe asked, sounding concerned.

I quickly stuffed my hand in my pocket. "Fine," I said. "Just a scratch. You better stay over there..."

I'd no sooner uttered the suggestion than Edythe was at my side. She produced a first-aid kit from one of the side pockets of the pack.

"I thought we might need it," she explained.

I stretched out my good hand for the white box. "Thanks."

Edythe didn't hand it over. "Let me see it," she said, reaching for the hand in my pocket.

I remembered the way Jessamine had reacted when I'd gotten a paper cut, and even though I didn't have any fear of Edythe losing control that way, it just made things harder on her than they needed to be. Even if a heroin addict had been clean for ten years, it only seemed common decency not to leave a syringe lying around.

I started to pull back. However, in spite of my worries, I suddenly smiled as I got an idea.

"Hey," I said. "Hold your breath and close your eyes. I know what we can do with this." I turned my back on her, taking my hand out of my pocket as I headed again in the direction of the clearing. I touched the things around me again, this time rubbing my hand more vigorously—a tall rock, a branch, a few leaves. I wasn't bleeding much, but I looked at the few smears of dark red in satisfaction. If the newborns were as blood-crazy as Jessamine had described, this would really get them going.

I heard Edythe sigh as she trailed behind me. "You're going to get that cut infected," she muttered, with obvious disapproval. Clearly neither holding her breath nor closing her eyes as I'd instructed her.

As she spoke, I broke through the trees and came to a stop. I turned my head to frown back at her. "Hey. I thought I said..."

Edythe's skin was glittering as she emerged from the shadow of the trees behind me. She rolled her eyes. "I think that's beyond more than enough," she said. "So come over here and let me clean it before it turns green and Carine has to chop it off. Then you'd really look like you'd had a run-in with a vampire."

"Yeah, okay," I said. I once again extended my good hand for the first-aid kit, but Edythe only raised an eyebrow and held the kit out of my reach.

"I can take care of it," I insisted. "You don't have to torture yourself."

"Who says I'm torturing myself?" Edythe asked. "Trust me, Beau, if there's something I can't handle, I won't hesitate to tell you."

Seeing no other argument I could make, I reluctantly uncurled my bad hand, holding it out palm up.

Edythe took my hand very gently in hers, and I watched as she began to carefully clean the wound. A slight smile was playing on her lips and her breathing remained steady and even. She was completely relaxed.

I could only stare at her, confused.

Edythe glanced once up at my expression before continuing to clean the wound. "Something wrong?" she asked lightly.

"Well..." I began slowly. "I mean, doesn't it bother you?"

Edythe's slight smile was still in place. "You mean the sight of your blood? The smell? No, not really. Not the way it used to."

I was amazed. The only vampire I'd seen able to be around fresh human blood without some kind of reaction—stiffening of the shoulders, body tensing—was Carine, who had centuries of practice as a nurse, then doctor. And my blood was especially potent to Edythe.

"When did that happen?" I wondered. Now that I thought about it, I wondered when was the last time I'd seen her hold her breath. But all I could think of was my birthday last September.

"I lived through twenty-four hours thinking you were dead," she said calmly as she swabbed my cut with disinfectant, making me wince. "That changed my perspective on things a little."

Edythe must have sensed my disbelief because she laughed softly and elaborated in a murmur, "You...probably can't imagine what I went through when I thought... Well, there are no words. Twenty-four hours may not seem like a long time, especially for a human. But—I think it was about as close to experiencing an eternity in hell as our kind can get."

She sighed as she smoothed a bandage over the wound, then lifted her eyes back to mine and smiled.

"So you might say that, the thought of hurting you in any way was always repugnant to my higher, noble mind, but now it's also repugnant to the selfish, baser parts of me, too. A natural instinct for self-preservation."

"Oh," I answered. It was all I could think of to say.

The wind suddenly tore through the clearing, making me shiver.

"Okay," Edythe said, unslinging the pack and drawing out my heavy winter coat. "I think our part is done. Now all that's left is for us to do a bit of camping."

"Fun," I muttered.

Edythe took my good hand and started to lead me in the direction of the opposite end of the clearing.

I was about to ask where we were supposed to meet Jules, when Jules suddenly appeared, stepping from the cover of the trees. As always she was dressed only in a pair of biking shorts and a sleeveless shirt, and even as another icy wind tore through the clearing, she didn't react. She had a large winter coat slung over one arm. She regarded us warily, silent as a wraith.

Edythe's expression could have been carved in marble, and I knew this was one part of the plan she didn't care for.

As we got close, I called casually, "Hey, Jules."

Edythe said politely, "Hello, Julie."

Jules ignored the greeting and, all business, said, "Okay, where do I take him?"

Edythe drew a folded laminated map from the side pocket of the pack. She handed it to Jules, who opened it without expression and studied it a moment.

"We're here now," Edythe said, reaching over to touch the spot. Jules flinched at the movement so close to her and went still before she mastered herself.

Pretending not to have noticed, Edythe continued evenly, "And then you'll be going up here." The tip of her finger traced a serpentine path around the elevation lines. "It will be roughly nine miles. When you're about a mile away you should cross my path and that will lead you to the correct spot." She added, "You can keep the map if you need it."

Jules stared down at the path a moment longer, then folded the map in two and handed it back.

"No thanks," she said coolly. "I know the area well enough."

Edythe took the map back. Her eyes flickered between me and Jules, looking wary. I knew she didn't like leaving me alone, in anyone else's protection.

"I'll take a longer route," Edythe said. "I'll see you in a few hours."

"See you," I said.

Edythe took a step back, though her eyes remained on us for a moment longer. Then she turned and disappeared into the trees.

Almost as soon as Edythe was gone, Jules dropped the whole hardened-warrior act and her mouth split into a wide grin.

"Yo. What's up?"

I snorted, shaking my head. "Oh, you know. The usual."

"Bunch of vampires trying to kill you," she said, nodding.

Jules shrugged on the parka. "Well, I guess we better get going." She bent slightly at the knees and gestured for me to climb onto her back.

My mouth twisted. Stupid as it probably was at this point, I still hadn't forgotten the incident at La Push.

At last she said, "We don't have all day, you know." She suddenly grinned and flexed her arms in front of her. "Unless you'd rather I carry you like this. Princess style."

Grumbling, I slowly approached, then tentatively got up on her back. She secured my legs, gripping my knees, and reluctantly I wrapped an arm around her shoulders. I was glad of the parka so at least my bare skin wasn't coming into contact with hers.

"I thought you didn't get cold now," I said, tapping the padding as she took off at a brisk jog that didn't seem possible in the dark, uneven forest. With well over a hundred pounds of weight on her back, a normal person probably would have cracked an ankle.

"I don't," she said. She spoke steadily, not the least out of breath. "I brought it for you, in case you weren't prepared. I really don't like the way the weather feels. It's making me edgy. The animals can feel something coming, there's no activity in the forest. It must be a pretty big storm on the way..."

Jules didn't slow down, even as the ground began to slope more and more steeply up, her feet instinctively finding the best footholds on the pathless dirt ground. She didn't even seem to need her arms for balance, though she paused a couple of times to readjust her grip, making sure I wouldn't slip off.

She glanced down at my arm around her shoulders, and beamed when she noticed the leather bracelet still on my wrist.

"Still wearing it? Haven't thrown it away yet?"

I shrugged against her back, for some reason annoyed by her tone. "Guess so."

"When are you coming back down to La Push?" she asked. "It's been a while. Your bike needs riding again."

"I've had a lot of stuff going on," I answered shortly. "And even if I didn't, I don't know I'll be going back."

Jules laughed. "I thought you forgave me."

"Forgiveness and trust are two different things," I muttered.

"Guess that means it's been on your mind a lot," she said, a grin in her voice. "Mine, too."

"Can we please not have this conversation now?" I said, scowling.

"So when do you want to have it?" she asked.

"Preferably never." I sighed. "Look, I'm willing to let the whole thing drop if you'll just let it go, but—you keep bringing it up. Why can't you just let things go back to normal? Don't my feelings count for anything? I've asked you politely to cut it out and you won't."

"I'm doing this for your own good, Beau," Jules answered. "Think about it—you've only experienced one relationship in your entire life, and she's not even human. You haven't let yourself know anything else, and you're ready to throw away your life for her. If I let you go without a serious fight, I'd never forgive myself."

"There's a difference between fighting and just being pushy," I said. "How would you feel if some guy suddenly kissed you out of nowhere? Say you're looking the other way and your guard's down a second and, say...say Lee kisses you. You think that's just okay?"

I don't know why I seized on Lee's name. But he was the only guy I could think of Jules knew that was technically single.

Jules wrinkled her nose. "I'd punch him in the face, and he'd never _think_ about pulling that again. Problem solved."

I sighed. "The point is you wouldn't like it, right? Him coming in and invading your personal space?"

Jules pursed her lips. "I guess I sort of see your point. But the thing is, you don't look at me like how I look at Lee."

"How do you look at Lee?" I asked. I added, "I already know he's part of the pack, so you can tell me the truth."

Again, Jules wrinkled her nose, mouth twisting. "I felt kind of bad for him at first—we all did—but honestly, after getting to know him a little, I've had slime on the bottom of my shoe I've liked better."

I asked the followup question. "And how do you _think_ I look at you?"

Jules considered for a minute.

"You know that story I told you about Sam?" she asked at last. "About how she fell in love with Elliot, but she couldn't admit it for a long time because she couldn't accept the idea of betraying Lee?"

"Yeah," I said cautiously.

"I think you're a loyal guy, Beau," she said. "You couldn't stand the thought of your feelings...betraying someone. Being dishonorable. I think that's why you keep clinging to this idea all your feelings for me are just as-friends. You just can't admit to yourself how you really feel."

I glared at the back of her head. "And that's your theory?" I demanded.

Again, I could hear the smile in her voice. "How else do you explain how nervous you get when you're around me? You don't get like that when I'm in my wolf form. Maybe because I don't look like a girl."

"Or maybe because as a wolf you can't talk, and I know I don't have to be bombarded with insane theories," I muttered darkly.

"You'll probably be upset when you realize," Jules said with a sigh, ignoring me. "And you'll feel guilty, like Sam. But it'll be better if you realize before it's too late. Lee may be a hollow, bitter shell of a guy, but even he knows the only worse situation he could have than the one right now is if Sam insisted on keeping herself bound to him when she really loved someone else."

"You're deluded," I muttered. "Seriously."

Jules grinned. "Don't worry, I'll keep it toned down for now. I won't tick you off too much, or I might start a fight with your vampire girl. As much as I would love that, I'd hate to leave them one short tomorrow."

I was quiet.

Jules misinterpreted my silence. "Yeah," she said, sighing. "I know you think she could take me."

I thought I'd just about gotten over the needles in my conscious, accepted my decision and moved on. But at this, the guilt suddenly seared to life in my chest, almost as sharp and overpowering as the first time.

Jules glanced back over her shoulder, worried by my silence, and when she saw my expression her brow furrowed, and the teasing bravado disappeared.

"Hey," she said. "What's wrong? Are you okay?" She slowed slightly, going more at a walk than a run now. "Hey," she said again, more urgently this time. "I'm just joking around... Don't worry. I'll be nicer. We can forget about the vampire-werewolf thing and just be you and me, okay?"

For a moment I couldn't seem to speak, but then I realized Jules would know soon enough when Edythe didn't leave to go to the battle tomorrow.

I turned my head away from hers, staring into the shadowy forest around us, feeling the cold wind sharp against my face.

"I'm not such a good, honorable guy as you think," I said suddenly, quietly. "I...I did something pretty sick."

Jules slowed even more, and the one eye of hers I could see looked very concerned now.

I forced myself to continue. "Edythe...isn't going with the others tomorrow." My voice was hoarse. "She's going to stay with me. I guilted her into it."

Jules was silent for a moment. Her silence scared me more than anything, and I found myself talking just to fill it.

"I don't know what's wrong with me. I just...I just couldn't deal with it. But it's dangerous and now they're going to be a fighter short—if someone gets hurt—killed—it'll be because of me."

Jules had picked up her pace again, and she was frowning at the forest in front of her. "I don't get it," she said at last. "You think there's a hole in the plan? You think there's a chance they'll find you?"

I shook my head. "It's not that. It would be better if it was. But...I just didn't want her to go. I couldn't stand the thought of Edythe there, in the thick of the battle."

I said quietly, "I'm...afraid of myself. If I'm capable of something like this...making Edythe choose between me and her family, putting them at risk—what else am I capable of?"

Jules kept running, and there was no sound but her even breathing, and her light footfalls on the forest floor.

At last, Jules snorted. "You are a such a worrier. I bet you've just been letting it eat away at you, like an idiot. She would be perfectly fine if she went—unfortunately—but it's not like we need her anyway. Just relax tomorrow, we'll take care of everything."

I felt my irritation rise. For some reason, which I could not have fully explained even to myself, I didn't want her to dismiss it. I wanted her to understand just how bad I was.

"What if it was you?" I challenged suddenly. "What if I asked you to stay? Asked you to stay out of the battle, and leave it to the rest of your pack to risk their lives without you. When you're the Beta, one of the strongest, and they need you."

Jules was quiet, and I couldn't even hear the sound of her breathing now.

"That's what I'm doing to Edythe," I said. "I know exactly what I'm doing, and yet—I can't get myself to do anything else. It's like there's this monster inside me. A monster who will do anything to get what he wants. What would you do if I did that to you? What if I guilted you like that, tried to make you decide between me and your family? What would you do?"

Again Jules didn't answer right away. She stared straight ahead so I couldn't see her face.

At last she said, slowly, seriously, "I wouldn't stay. Even if you begged me. I would still go."

I nodded slowly, accepting that.

"But," Jules said, and her voice was earnest, "that doesn't mean I would be choosing my family over you. I'd do it _for_ you as much as for them—because when everything worked out fine, you'd forgive me for leaving, and you'd be better off. You wouldn't have to feel guilty then."

I didn't answer, and she continued, "Beau, try as hard as she might, she doesn't understand you. She never understands what you really need. Before, she went off and abandoned you because she thought that was what you needed. Now she's just giving you what you say you want, when you don't even really know yourself."

I was quiet for a moment. My mouth turned down into a frown. "And you _do_ know what I need?" I said skeptically.

Jules grinned. "Maybe."

I sighed and my annoyance faded. "I'm pretty bad, aren't I?"

"The worst," she agreed, though her voice was still amused. "But I kind of understand. Sort of like I would never, in a thousand years, let you be in that clearing tomorrow, even if it did give us some sort of advantage."

She shot me a sideways look over her shoulder.

I didn't answer.

"Yeah," she said, "don't pretend like you haven't been thinking about it. I can imagine what you were scheming before your vampire shut it down. Good for her. Finally she's good for something."

I scowled. "If I was there, I could distract them."

Jules snorted. "If you were there, _I'd_ be so distracted I don't know what I'd be doing. Honestly, there's no point even thinking about it. If she hadn't already vetoed it, I would have. Better she keeps out of the fight than you're in it."

Jules added after a moment, a little more gently, "Anyway, I just meant to say I kind of understand. I still think you're making a big deal out of nothing—we all know what we're doing and we'll take care of it, no problem—but I get why you're doing it. I'm just saying if it was me you were asking, you'd probably be better off in the long run."

She ran for a minute or so, neither of us saying anything. At last I heard myself say, quietly, "If I knew of a way to get you to stay, too...I'd probably do it."

I felt Jules hesitate in mid-step, before she continued on, redoubling her pace. Her voice was light as she said, "No you wouldn't. You'd be fine. You'll have your vampire."

"You said I'd be better off in the long run," I said, still in a low voice. "Maybe you're right. But until it's over, I'll be sick—sick with the thought you might not..." I couldn't make myself finish.

"Why?" she asked. The word came out sounding strange. Like she meant it to be light and teasing, dismissive, but it came out low with emotion instead.

"Because," I said quietly. "Because even if it's not how you want, I—care. About you. I think you know how much—you're my best friend, and if something happened to you, I really don't know what I..." I couldn't finish, and just let the thought trail off.

Again we were both quiet for a moment. Then Jules sighed.

"You'll realize it eventually," she murmured, almost to herself. "You'll have to."

I knew what she meant, but I didn't want to break the moment to point out again she was delusional. So I stayed was quiet.

We traveled in silence again for awhile. I tilted my head back to gaze up at the sky, and was startled to see a solid, purple-black wall of cloud approaching from the west, so dense it cast a deep shadow over the forest, making mid-afternoon look like late evening, almost night.

"Wow," I muttered. "That looks nasty. You better hurry, Jules, you'll want to have time to get home before that hits."

"Don't worry, we're getting close," she said, and she was moving even faster than before, almost flat-out sprinting. Her breathing was still even, but more labored now, and she had to fit her words in between steady intakes of oxygen. "I just picked up her scent."

She wrinkled her nose. "Oh, and no need for time to head back, because I'm not going back tonight. I'm sure your little bloodsucker will want to stay in touch with the rest of the pack, and Sarah won't be getting here until tomorrow morning."

"You're... _staying?_ " I demanded. I suddenly had a nightmarish vision of me, Edythe, and Jules all spending the night in a tent together—the image made me shudder.

Jules glanced back, reading the horror on my face, and rolled her eyes. "Not _in_ the tent, obviously. I'll take the storm over the smell any day. I'll just be close if you need me for anything."

She paused, then added, changing the subject, "By the way. How did you find out? I mean, that I was the—" She broke off, then shrugged under my arm. "Guess it doesn't matter."

"What?" I said. "You mean that you're the Beta of the pack? Oh, Edythe told me. She found out same time she found out about Lee, at the training meeting."

"She sure found out a lot," Jules muttered darkly. "Ugh, you're lucky you can keep her out. If she was in your head all the time like she is everyone else's, I'd be surprised if you didn't go insane."

I didn't answer. I didn't like it when Jules talked about Edythe that way, but if I was being honest, I'd thanked my lucky stars more than once for that quirk that kept her from seeing my innermost thoughts. I sometimes wondered if Edythe would still feel the same way about me if she could see my thoughts as she did everyone else's. What if she saw how boring and ordinary I really was? Or how selfish and petty I could be?

I decided to turn the conversation back around. "So, you, Beta," I said. "That's cool. How come you didn't tell me? Sam didn't let you?"

"Just didn't seem important," she said, shrugging again. "It's not really a big thing. Like I said, Sam's the Alpha. She probably should have picked one of the others to be the Beta, one of the ones who phased sooner than I did, but she picked me instead...mainly because of my lineage. Like I said, no big deal, really."

"Lineage?" I said, frowning.

Jules nodded. "Because I'm a descendent of Elda Black, and she was the last 'Alpha' of the pack, the last chieftess of the tribe. Now that Sam's the Alpha, technically that makes her the new chieftess of the tribe...weird, isn't it? All those strange old traditions."

She chuckled, though for some reason, she sounded a little uneasy.

I considered. "But if this whole thing is determined by lineages, and Elda Black was the last chieftess...well...wouldn't that mean you should be the Alpha? Chieftess, whatever?"

Jules didn't reply. Instead she gazed up into the darkening sky, as if she'd suddenly found something up there that needed her attention. At last she said, "Sam's the best person for the job. I may not always agree with her on everything, but she's a natural leader."

"Was her great grandmother a chieftess, too?" I asked, curious.

Jules shook her head. "No. There's only one chieftess of the tribe. One Alpha."

"So..." I said slowly.

Jules was unusually tense under my grip. Then she suddenly slumped and sighed. "Okay, yeah. According to the lineages stuff, I should have been the Alpha."

"But Sam changed first," I said. "So she's Alpha instead."

Jules still seemed uncomfortable. "Sam offered it to me. I could have taken it if I wanted to, but I...just didn't want to. I didn't even want to be Beta, but the others all kind of voted me in."

"Why not?" I asked. I thought about all the times Jules seemed to chafe under Sam's orders, how she hated to be controlled. It seemed like it would be the perfect way to get free of all that.

Jules shook her head. "I didn't ask for any of this, you know. I was just a normal teenager, doing normal things, and then suddenly I was in this war I didn't even know existed. I was happy with my life before, and suddenly I felt like I'd lost everything. I didn't want to be there. I didn't feel up to shouldering the responsibility of being one protector of the tribe, let alone the pack's leader."

We were quiet as I considered that. I remembered the anger, the bitterness in her face back then. That look I'd come to associate with Sam.

"And...how are things now?" I asked in a low voice, almost afraid of the answer.

Jules shrugged. "I told you before, things are better now. Once you knew—well, I didn't feel like I'd lost so much. A part of me still hates that I never had a choice, but I've mostly accepted it now. I'm even glad, just a bit. I'm glad some of us have this power to protect the tribe when the tribe needs it. Someone has to do this job—the way I see it, might as well be me."

I gazed at the side of her face as she gazed straight ahead with determination. And I thought I saw something there in her dark eyes. A solemnity, a quiet strength. In the face of my friend, with the smile lines at the corners of her eyes, I saw for the first time the barest hint of a leader. Tall, resolute.

"Tell me if they ever make you chieftess," I said. "I want to come to the ceremony."

Jules rolled her eyes, sarcasm back in place.

The sky was dark above us now, and the wind howled through the treetops. I began to see small flurries of white whipping around us, and the wind was so chilling it sent a shiver through my whole body.

Jules ran in silence now, sprinting hard, and I felt the strain of her muscles working beneath me. Barely minutes later, her dash took her around the side of the a stony peak, and I sighed with relief when I caught sight of the little tent nestled up between the rock, sheltered somewhat from the powerful wind now blowing large flakes of snow.

Edythe was there, pacing back and forth, looking agitated. But the moment we appeared she stopped, turning to look at us, and an expression of relief broke across her face.

Moving too fast for human eyes to follow, in a blur of motion she was suddenly beside us.

Jules flinched back, startled by the sudden movement, then scowled. She let me down, and as my feet connected solidly with the ground, I wobbled a bit, as they'd started to fall asleep.

Edythe reached out a hand to steady me. Then her eyes shifted to Jules. I tensed, ready for her to say something scathing.

However, there was nothing but gratitude in her face when she said, "Thank you. That was faster than I expected."

Jules's face was now completely blank, no emotion. "Get him inside. It's going to be bad—How secure is that tent?"

"I all but welded it to the rock."

Jules nodded. "Good." She turned her eyes up to the sky, now completely black with the storm. Bits of snow swirled here and there.

Wordlessly, she shrugged off her coat and hung it on a low, stubby branch, and kicked off her shoes. She closed her eyes and I knew she was about to change.

At Edythe's beckoning, I turned and followed her into the tent.

* * *

A/N: And, there's another one. (Turned out to be an unexpectedly worrying chapter in a lot of ways, though I guess that's nothing compared to the next one. x3 Don't be too surprised if that one takes an extra week or two.)

Okay then, announcement time. (A slightly long one, but hope you'll bear with me.) Is there going to be a Breaking Dawn Reimagined after this—the simple answer is, yes, there is very likely going to be a Breaking Dawn Reimagined, though with a couple of asterisks.

First, we won't be going straight into it with the end of Eclipse here. Rather, first we'll be taking a detour to a partial 'Midnight Sun Reimagined' (going up through about the first half of Life and Death), which I wrote the rough drafts for some time ago.

There are a couple of reasons I decided to go this way. First, while I'm getting close to finally being finished with the initial rough drafts of Breaking Dawn Reimagined, it's still nowhere near a state as a whole that I'd feel comfortable posting even the earliest chapters—especially since the last thing I want is to get started on it, then get stuck as I get to the choppier, less finished parts and leave the story hanging for six months. I want the posting to be on a somewhat regular schedule as this has been, and to do that, all the chapters really need to be brought up to a relatively presentable state before we begin. And also, for reasons that can't really be explained just yet, I thought a Midnight Sun Reimagined would act as a good introduction of sorts going into Breaking Dawn. As with Bella and Edward, Beau's view of Edythe doesn't always give the full picture, and I think it will be important to get a look inside Edythe's thoughts. Which, leads into the second asterisk.

As I think I might have insinuated in some of the old New Moon Reimagined author's notes, although this will be called 'Breaking Dawn Reimagined,' and will be the concluding story of this particular 'Life and Death' altered-ending continuation, it's not going to be a gender-swapped equivalent of Breaking Dawn, or even really a recognizable parallel. Rather, it's going to be a completely new story, pretty much separate from the original _._

The reasoning for why the plot of Breaking Dawn doesn't work in a gender-swap is pretty straight forward—Edythe, as a vampire, can't get pregnant, short of a series of serious canonical gymnastics and rule-breaking, and so there can't be a half-vampire child to be mistaken for an immortal child to incite the Volturi.

However, I've been wanting to make Breaking Dawn Reimagined into a different story for another reason. In that, the same way that Stephanie Meyer wrote the gender-swap of Twilight to make Life and Death, but added a new, twist ending—an exploration of another potential direction to have taken the story in the original—I found myself wanting to do something similar with this. After keeping pretty much the same story through New Moon and Eclipse, I want to branch off to explore new possibilities, maybe not something Stephanie Meyer would have written, but something that reflects my own personal tastes and interests.

So, that's the plan. Once the last chapter of this story is up, we'll be going into Midnight Sun, and I hope to use that time to get Breaking Dawn up to where I'd like it to be.

Anyway, that's it—thanks so much for reading! If you have a moment, let me know what you thought of this last chapter or even the Midnight Sun/Breaking Dawn situation. (I am sorry to have to delay Breaking Dawn, I figured I should probably say something about that before we get to the end here.) Hope those who celebrate it had a very Merry Christmas, and I'll see you all next time~

Posted 12/27/17


	22. Fire and Ice

A/N: Hey guys! C: Back at it again, it seems, and it's the first post of the new year—I've never made resolutions per say, but definitely have plans for writing I hope to get done.

Probably one of my favorite chapters to work on so far. Hope you enjoy, and see you at the end! :J

* * *

Chapter 21: Fire and Ice

I couldn't remember the last time I'd ever been so cold. I was fully dressed, hiking boots still in place, heavy jacket zipped up to my chin, wrapped in a heavy down sleeping bag, and still I was shivering all over, teeth chattering so hard I thought I would crack them.

And it was still getting colder.

Another violent wind rattled the tent, and my shivering intensified.

"W-W-What t-t-t-time is it?" I managed to grind out.

"Two," Edythe answered.

She sounded almost as miserable as I felt. She sat on the far side of the tent, hands clutching her knees to make herself as small as possible, afraid to even breathe on me when I was this cold. She sat perfectly still, and even though it was too dark to see her face clearly, I could see the tension in her rigid posture.

Edythe had suggested we try to make a run for it—get out of the storm. But I knew it made more sense for us to stay right where we were. I had no desire to leave the tent, and besides, if Edythe and I made a very long trail together, the newborns might pick up on it tomorrow, and all our efforts would have been for nothing. The snow wouldn't do anything to mask our scents.

"What can I do?" she whispered, almost pleading.

I shook my head.

Outside the tent, I heard a dog-like whine.

"I-I-I-Is sh-she st-st-still here?" I demanded. "I th-th-thought I t-t-told her t-t-t-to g-g-go h-h-home!"

"It's not the cold," Edythe said. "It doesn't bother her much. She's worried about you."

"Sh-sh-sh-she sh-sh-should—" My teeth were chattering so much I couldn't finish, afraid I'd bite my tongue off.

Jules, standing right outside the tent, as though trying to shield the tent with her bulk, gave a high, keening sound.

"What do you want me to do?" Edythe hissed back, her polite facade fallen away, the barest note of the beginnings of hysteria in her voice.

"J-J-J-Just c-c-c-calm d-d-down," I chattered. "I'm f-f-f-fine."

Edythe gazed across the tent at me with a mixture of pain and almost frantic frustration. There was a low growl outside the tent, but the then sound broke off, cut short. Edythe suddenly stiffened.

I was startled when I abruptly heard a voice outside the tent.

"I have an idea," Jules said. "But I don't think you're going to like it."

"No," Edythe snapped, and her voice was as cold as the air outside. "Absolutely not."

"And I guess you don't care if his fingers and toes turn black and fall off," Jules said.

Edythe hesitated. I saw her eyes shift to me in the gloom. What little I could make out of her face seemed twisted with some conflict, almost tortured.

At last she closed her eyes and took a slow, steadying breath. Then she let out a short huff that sounded like resignation.

I heard the sound of the tent zipper coming down. Jules slipped in through the smallest gap she could manage, but still flakes of snow billowed in behind her and I felt a sudden blast of arctic air on my face. I shivered so hard it was almost a convulsion. Jules quickly zipped the door back up and the air settled once again, though I could still hear the howl of the wind outside.

I noticed Jules was holding the parka slung over one arm, and I hoped she wasn't intending to put it on me now—it looked like it was frozen solid. However, she threw it in the corner of the tent, then headed straight toward me.

I couldn't help but stare at her—dressed as always like she was ready for an afternoon in the sun, a sleeveless shirt and biking shorts, and barefoot. I would have thought she had to be impossibly cold, werewolf or not, but she came and knelt down at my side, completely casual. If anything, she looked smug. I caught sight of Edythe sitting with her arms folded, hands clenched, her eyes boring into Jules's back with the blackest expression of pure loathing I had ever seen.

Jules calmly unzipped the sleeping bag.

"W-W-W-What are y-y-you d-d-do—" I tried to say.

"Make some room there, Beau," she said. "You'll feel better in a second." Her eyes were glittering.

I suddenly understood her plan, and I did my best to glare. "N-n-n-n-no," I objected. "G-G-G-Go a-a-w-wuh—"

However, before I could even get the words out, she'd already slotted herself into the large sleeping bag beside me, forcing the zipper back up behind her.

Jules wrapped her arms firmly around me, pulling us together.

Jules was grinning and seemed perfectly at ease, despite Edythe glaring a hole in the back of her head.

"See?" Jules said cheerfully. "Isn't this better? In the army, this is what they do when someone has come down with hypothermia. Course, according to the manual, you're supposed to take off your clothes."

Edythe made a threatening hiss that raised the hair on the back of my neck, and I was amazed Jules was willing to risk having her back to her.

I really wanted to fight her. I wanted to kick up a protest and demand she get out right now. Especially because Edythe was looking so upset, and Jules was being so obnoxious about it. But the sudden heat was too much to resist. I pressed my icy fingers against her bare shoulders, and I sighed with relief at the same time she sucked in a sharp breath and flinched back from my touch.

"Jeez, you're freezing, Beau."

"S-S-S-Sorry," I managed to get out.

"Relax," she said, pressing her palms to my face, my cheeks, my forehead, my nose. She paused for a moment there, the tips of her fingers briefly brushing my lips. Her grin suddenly turned a bit wicked and she leaned close until her nose brushed mine.

I jerked back, glaring at her. "Y-Y-You're u-u-un-b-b-believable," I chattered.

Jules laughed and drew back, looking smug again. "Just doing my part to help out. Your face should be warmer now, it's all red."

I glared and tried to answer, but Jules pressed her palm over my mouth.

"Your lips are blue," she explained, almost gently. Her other hand continued to press over my face, then moving around the back of my neck. An involuntary sigh of relief escaped my mouth as the warmth touched my icy skin. For a moment my eyes slid closed.

I heard Edythe utter a muffled groan, and my eyes flew open again automatically.

"If you don't like my thoughts, stay out of my head." Jules's voice was calm, but I thought the color of her russet skin looked slightly deeper than usual, and her skin was suddenly burning even more where it touched mine.

"Believe me," Edythe answered in a pained tone, "if I could, I would."

I narrowed my eyes, regarding Jules with disapproval and suspicion. But now it was almost warm in the sleeping bag, enough that my teeth had stopped chattering.

Edythe was still sitting in the corner of the tent, silent, and I could see from the turn of her head that she was watching us. Her arms were still wrapped around her knees, drawn up to her chest.

I wanted to apologize. However, before I could marshal my frozen thoughts into a coherent sentence, Edythe murmured, almost gently, "Don't forget your feet."

I blinked then, realizing she was right. I went to work kicking off my boots inside the sleeping bag, then my socks, and I pressed my icy toes up against Jules's bare leg. She gasped and jumped again at the sudden cold, then relaxed. She pressed her hands against the side of my head again, rubbing my numb ears. Our faces were inches apart, but the smugness was gone from her expression and she didn't look like she was going to try to pull anything again. Instead, her face was placid, almost thoughtful as she worked.

This close to her, as I breathed in I noticed her skin had a woodsy fragrance, like the trees and moss of the forest outside. It was definitely not a bad smell—definitely not like Edythe and the others always made it out to be.

The storm howled outside like an angry animal, but it didn't bother me so much now, now that I'd warmed up and Jules was no longer out there standing in it. And now that I'd thawed out, the shivering and muscle spasms from earlier left me limp with exhaustion.

Jules gently stroked my face. I probably should have objected, but I was already fading out, and it was kind of soothing. She hummed something that sounded like one of the Quileute tribal songs, and I felt myself teetering on the edge of consciousness. My breath was slower now, more even. My eyes closed.

"Sarah is here," Edythe murmured. "Just like you asked."

"Good. She can keep us connected with the others while I take care of this situation here."

Edythe muttered something, too low for me to hear. It sounded like an oath.

I would have told them to cut it out, but by that point I was too far gone. My body felt heavy, and the voices around me had taken on a distant, almost dreamlike quality.

It was quiet for a time then, but for the screaming winds outside and the groan of violently swaying trees. Several times I almost slipped under, but then another massive gust of wind would set the tent poles to quivering and shaking against the rock, and I would come back to consciousness, if only barely.

It was Jules who finally broke the silence.

"He could still choose me, you know," she said, out of nowhere.

When Edythe made no reply, Jules continued, "Nothing's set in stone. I have so many things I could give him you couldn't. If he chose me, he could have a real family. I could give him—well, maybe not a normal life, but more normal than you'd give him. He wouldn't have to become a monster, wouldn't have to give up seeing Charlie or his mom... Maybe you're some kind of perfect fantasy girl, besides the bloodsucking vampire part, but I'm real. In the end, why wouldn't he choose me?"

Edythe didn't answer.

Jules suddenly slumped, and when she spoke again, the defiant, taunting edge was gone from her voice. "So hard to mess with someone when they can see inside your head," she muttered. "Okay, I admit it, I have no idea how this is going to end, either. Sometimes it feels hopeless. But I can't not fight...even when I don't always know _how_ to fight."

The tent was silent again then, but for the ferocious winds outside. I was nearly out—I couldn't even be sure if I was still awake, or if I'd already drifted into a dream.

"Maybe," Edythe said unexpectedly, answering some thought I hadn't heard. "You could ask."

"It's only fair," Jules said. "You always see everything inside my head. I should get a chance to see inside yours."

"I suppose I see your point," Edythe murmured.

Jules snorted softly. "See," she muttered. "That's just what I mean. You act all polite when I know you're thinking something nasty." She added suspiciously, "So if I ask you a question, you'll answer honestly?"

Edythe didn't answer immediately, perhaps considering. At last, she said, "I suppose we might declare a temporary ceasefire, just for tonight. You're right, that is only fair." She added, "Though I still reserve the right to hold my peace, if I choose."

"Fine."

Edythe didn't speak for a moment, and I figured she was waiting for the first question.

"Are you jealous of me?" Jules asked bluntly.

"Yes," Edythe answered, without so much as a pause.

Jules sighed. "I don't mean right now. Me and him, here. Much as I like seeing that face you're making, this doesn't really mean anything in the longrun."

She continued, "I guess what I mean is, you're always so cool. So confident. Like you know he'll always choose you and nothing could change that. But isn't there a part of you that's afraid of me? That feels threatened, at least a little?"

This time, Edythe was quiet a moment. When she finally answered, her tone was more subdued. "Yes."

"For how long?" Jules asked curiously.

"From the beginning," Edythe said quietly. "From the moment I first heard him speak to you at the school dance. He spoke to you in a way I had never heard him speak before. At school, he had always kept himself a little apart from the others. He never seemed fully open, never joked around like the others did. I thought I had seen that side of him—the less guarded side, the joking side—more than anyone else. Until I saw him talking to you, with such greater ease than he had ever spoken to me.

"So to answer your question—yes, I have felt threatened by you. From the beginning, and still to this day."

Jules was quiet, considering that. However, when she spoke again, she had moved on to another question. "You stopped him seeing me for a while there at first. What made you change your mind and start playing nice?"

Edythe sighed. "Once I could accept that Beau was safe with you—relatively speaking—I realized that, stubborn as he is, my attempting to keep him away and his inevitable maneuvers to escape were as liable to get him hurt as anything. The last thing I wanted was to end up driving him to extremes."

"And?" Jules pressed. "Is that all?"

Edythe paused briefly. When she spoke again, her voice was low. "And also. When I...first realized. How I felt about Beau. That was not a choice. It wasn't something I could control. But from the beginning, I knew what I could control was _how_ I loved him. I believed it would be the right thing to do to stay away from him, and I tried—but in the end, I couldn't do it. Then I tried to free him from me by leaving him, but as you know, that also ended in failure. My attempt at selflessness turned out to be the cruelest, most selfish mistake I have ever made.

"So you see, I wanted to do better than I had in the past. My mind doesn't work like that of a human, so I can think of many things at once, and a part of my mind is constantly devoted to ensuring Beau's safety. When we are apart, his welfare suddenly outside the scope of my influence, the helplessness is nearly unbearable. But I came to realize— _that_ kind of love was only hurting Beau. I may want to be in control, to keep him safe, but by standing in his way of what he wanted to do, what he thought was right... _that_ wasn't the kind of love I wanted to have. In the end, I would rather be understanding, trusting and supporting him, rather than fighting him. That seemed a better kind of love, the kind Beau deserves."

"And," Jules added, "you knew if you put a collar on him, you might drive him away, and you knew if you were going to win it was better to play the saint."

There was a smile in Edythe's voice as she replied. "I won't say that didn't cross my mind."

"Have you ever considered I might be the better match for him?" Jules asked. "That he might be better off with me?"

"Yes," Edythe replied, with a bit of a hollow laugh. "I even asked Archie to look into the future for me, to see if he might be happier with you... Of course he couldn't see anything."

"When it comes down to it, you don't want him to become a bloodsucker, do you?" Jules pressed. "That's why you left before."

Edythe sighed. When she spoke, she spoke slowly, uncertainly. "From the beginning...when I first realized how I felt. I knew there were only four possible endings to this story."

The tent was quite again, and Jules seemed to be waiting for Edythe to continue. When she didn't, Jules finally asked, "And? Those are?"

Edythe let out a breath again. "The first possibility was that he would not feel as strongly for me. That he would get over it and move on. I was prepared to accept that, though I knew my feelings would never change—you think of us as living stone, and in some ways, that is indeed what we are. We are not easily altered, and when we are, there is no going back."

She continued, "The second alternative was for me to remain with him throughout his human life. I knew it was not a good option for Beau, being with someone who could not fulfill with him all the human experiences in this life, would not grow old with him, would not give him a family—but it was the alternative I could most easily face, and I comforted myself that he, still being human and changeable, could still change his mind, and regardless I would die when he died. But it quickly proved to be too dangerous—living in proximity to us and our world."

Edythe went on in the same low, even voice. "Option three was for me to leave, and hope in my absence he would return to the path his life had been taking before I so thoughtlessly interrupted it. I tried to take that option, essentially trying to force him into the first option, and it turned out to be the worst choice of all—I will never forgive myself for the pain I inflicted on him then."

Edythe fell silent for a moment then.

At last, Jules said quietly, "And?"

"And, you know what the fourth option is," Edythe whispered. "You see, I have tried everything. Now the fourth option looms before me...and more and more I don't see that I have a choice. I don't want to see Beau sacrifice his human life, but I see no other alternative. And I think Beau knows that too, which is why he means to change as soon as possible, to have me change him. I don't see another way."

"Huh," murmured Jules. "You're right. He's going to do it, and you won't talk him out of it." She paused, then said slowly, "It sounds then like the only way Beau will get to keep his human life is if he picks me, not you."

Edythe was quiet for a long time. She said at last, very quietly, "I think you're right."

"You could try to help me, you know," Jules suggested. "Work with me to try to get him fall for me instead. If you _really_ wanted to save him..."

There was a soft laugh in the darkness. "You really are truly unscrupulous, Julie Black. I commend you on your willingness to go to any lengths to defeat me."

There was a grin in Jules's voice as she responded. "It was worth a shot."

"I suppose it was." Edythe's tone was musing as she added, "If I could know for a fact he would be happier with you, my answer might be different. But I'm afraid I'm far too self-serving to gamble my own happiness away on pure chance. And Beau has already made it clear what he wants. The fact it coincides with what I want is more than I deserve."

"And what if Beau still changes his mind?" Jules challenged. "What if he chooses me after all? What would you do then?"

"Then that would be his choice," Edythe answered. "I wouldn't stand in his way. Much as I might prefer to disembowel you, I would do all in my power to smooth the way for the two of you, for him to find happiness." The smile was back in her voice. "But I wouldn't count on that just yet. I told you, I'm taking nothing for granted, and I still intend to fight. All the way until the final, bitter end."

There was silence in the tent yet again, but for the howling winds outside.

At last, Jules said, "Okay then...just one last question."

Again, the tent was quiet. Only when Edythe let out a short breath did I realize Jules had already asked the question, only she hadn't voiced it aloud.

"I...can't describe that," Edythe said eventually, very quietly. "I couldn't put it into words. All the parts of my mind—if you ever find yourself tortured, or set on fire, you may understand some sliver of what I felt. I knew I would only find relief in nothingness."

"You don't think it might have been a little overdramatic?" Jules asked. Her tone wasn't derisive or sneering, but simply curious.

"I could see where you would see it that way," Edythe answered. "You are human. You value your life, have many things to give it meaning. My life—if Beau does not exist, somewhere in this world, my life has no value."

Jules was quiet for a long minute then, considering that. At last she said, her rough voice low, "You really do love him, don't you?"

"I like to think so," Edythe answered. "This feeling—at once kind and gentle and selfless, and also, at the same time, wild and violent beyond imagining. I like to call it love."

Jules didn't answer immediately, once again leaving the only sound in the tent to the storm outside. Finally, she sighed. "I love him too, you know. Even if it's not quite like you do. Not quite so psycho." After a pause, she added, "I still think you're the bad guy in this story."

Edythe's voice was oddly solemn as she replied. "In all honesty, I often think so, too."

The tent lapsed into silence once again, and this time, it had a sense of finality to it. I heard the sleeping bag rustle as Jules shifted slightly.

"Well, thanks for letting me inside your head a little, leech," she said. "When should we say this truce is going to be over? First light? Or are we waiting until after the battle?"

There was a pause as they both considered.

"First light, I say," Edythe said, laughing softly.

"Definitely," Jules agreed, a grin in her voice.

"Sleep well, Julie Black," Edythe said softly. "You'll need it for the fight tomorrow."

"Don't tell me what to do," she said, but there was still that half-note of amusement, and she seemed already settled in.

It was quiet again, and even the wind outside the tent, which had been trying to tear us off the rock, had died down. Giving up the fight for now.

I felt myself slipping now, away from the odd, disquieting contents of this particular dream. I let myself drift into unconscious, where I figured my dreams would make more sense.

* * *

A/N: And, that's it for now. (I'd been waiting to get to the point of posting this one for awhile. I was a little surprised by how short this chapter turned out to be, and I kept feeling like I needed to fill it out and make it a bit longer—which I can honestly say almost never happens to me.)

Anyway, thanks so much for reading! I've been unusually busy this month, working on helping out with the editing on someone's book that's getting published (long story), but hope to get some more work done on this project in February. (And of course as always, I'll be working on the next chapter.) If you have a moment, let me know what you thought, and I'll see you next time! C:

Posted 1/22/18


	23. The Truth

A/N: Hey! Back again. I was working so much on the rough drafts for Breaking Dawn that I nearly thought I might push this back another week, but then, I took at least four weeks on the last one, so I decided I wanted to be more on schedule this time around.

Oh yeah, I fixed the chapter title issue from last time, which someone was kind enough to point out. (It should say Chapter 21 now, instead of Chapter 20. I changed and messed with how the chapters are split so many times I guess it was inevitable I'd miss something eventually. I realized I had to go and fix the later chapters, too, they were all off by one.)

Thanks so much to all of you for sticking with me this long, and for all your thoughts and comments. Hope you enjoy, and see you at the end!

* * *

Chapter 22: The Truth

When I woke up that morning, the sun was already out, so bright it hurt my eyes, even inside the tent.

I almost couldn't believe it after how freezing I'd been during the night, but I was sweltering—uncomfortably so. Jules still had her arms around my back, and I realized she was fast asleep.

I put my hands on her shoulders and carefully tried to disentangle myself without waking her. But if anything, her arms only tightened around me unconsciously. Try as I might, I realized I wasn't going to get free without help.

I turned my head, squinting at the light, and saw a dark figure crouched motionless beside the entrance flap. As my eyes adjusted, Edythe's face came into focus. Her expression was smooth as she met my gaze. Perfectly devoid of emotion, the way it always was when her emotions were at their most dangerous and she didn't want me to see them.

"Um," I said, extremely conscious of the fact Jules was pressed against me, and still had her arms around my back. "I don't suppose it's any warmer out there, is it?"

"I don't think you'll be in any danger of hypothermia today," she said evenly.

I awkwardly tried to reach around Jules to get to the zipper, but she had one of my arms pinned, and the other I couldn't seem to make use of at such an awkward angle.

"Like some assistance?" Edythe asked politely.

"Um, yeah," I said. "Thanks. I think I'm going to get heatstroke."

Edythe reached over and unzipped the sleeping bag in one swift, abrupt movement. Jules fell out unceremoniously, her bare arms and legs coming into contact with the icy floor of the tent.

Jules gasped in shock and her eyes flew open. On instinct, she flinched back from the cold, rolling back onto the sleeping bag and right onto me, her elbow driving right into my stomach. I gasped, taken by surprise as always by her incredible weight.

What happened next was too quick for me to see. Very suddenly the weight on me was gone, and I felt the entire tent shudder as something hit one of the poles hard. I sat up as quickly as I could to find Edythe crouched in front of me, and I glanced at the side of her face to see that her lips were curled back from her teeth, expression livid.

I saw that the impact had been Jules, her back hitting the side of the tent. She had instantly scrambled into a crouch, an almost animalistic fury in her face as a snarl ripped itself from her throat. Outside the tent, I heard a wolf's angry snarls, too—Sarah, no doubt.

Jules and Edythe had never liked each other, and were always threatening fights, but this was probably the closest I'd ever seen them to one.

I scrambled around Edythe, putting myself physically between them. "Okay," I said, trying to keep the panic out of my voice. "Okay, everybody just cool it."

Jules had been shaking all over, like she did when she was about to phase, but she took a deep breath through her nose, and the shaking slowed. However, she still glared daggers at Edythe for a long minute before she finally turned her eyes to me.

"Are you okay?" I asked, concerned. The sound of Jules slamming into the pole was still ringing in my ears.

"Fine," Jules muttered, looking away.

I turned to look at Edythe, frowning.

Edythe still wasn't totally under control. Her gold eyes were so narrow they looked black, and her breathing was coming a little too fast. She didn't look entirely like herself—strands of her bronze hair hung in her face, and she looked about as riled as I remembered seeing her.

I realized last night couldn't have been easy for her, and her nerves must be about frayed to the limit. I'd have to do something to try to make it up to her later.

I waited for her breathing to even out and her furious expression to smooth slightly, though her eyes were still hard. Her gaze shifted to Jules.

"If you want to fight, just say it," Jules said, clenching her fists. "I'm ready any time you are. Unless you think you've got a better chance attacking me when I'm half asleep."

Edythe's reply was cold as ice. "Be more careful next time where you swing your gorilla's arms. I don't care if you're awake or asleep, if you're so careless as to hurt Beau again—"

"Hey," I said sharply, unable to quite curb my frustration. I looked between the two of them, my eyes finally settling on Edythe. "I'm just fine. It was obviously an accident." I added before I had time to think about it, "You could have gotten her off me without starting a fight." My stomach probably would have a nice large bruise tomorrow, but I wasn't much worried about that right now.

Edythe looked momentarily stricken by my reproach, eyes dropping to the ground, before her expression smoothed again, concealing her emotions. She raised her eyes slowly, unwillingly to Jules, and muttered stiffly, "I apologize, dog. I may have...overreacted."

"Whatever," Jules said, still sounding annoyed, though she looked at me with some surprise.

I was already feeling guilty and a bit shocked at myself. I couldn't remember if I'd ever spoken to Edythe that way—like I was telling her off for doing something wrong. It seemed out of place, somehow. I felt like I should be more understanding, considering the night she probably had. Though I'd had that strange dream she and Jules were almost to the point of getting along...

I suddenly shivered and sneezed. It wasn't as cold as the night before, but it was still chilly enough.

The tense moment passed, and Edythe immediately went and retrieved Jules's parka from the corner of the tent. It seemed to have thawed, and resembled a coat again, rather than a block of ice.

"Here," she said, putting it around my shoulders over top of my jacket. Her voice was once again gentle and perfectly normal, the tension gone from her posture.

Jules stretched and yawned. And to my surprise, she retreated back to the sleeping bag, flopping back down and pulling it over herself. "Wake me up in ten minutes," she said, stifling another yawn. "I didn't get a whole lot of sleep last night, you know, what with Beau mumbling in my ear all night."

She grinned, looking suddenly smug. A moment before she had looked on the verge of sleep, but now she rolled onto her side, head propped up on one elbow. "By the way, how was your night?" she asked, taunting eyes on Edythe. "In spite of the lack of sleep, mine really wasn't so bad."

Edythe's smile was tight. "I suppose it wasn't the worst night I've ever had."

"Top ten?" Jules asked, grin widening. Clearly she was deriving a perverse pleasure out of this.

"Possibly."

"Okay!" I said, cutting in, glaring at Jules. "We're finished. This conversation is over. Done." I took Edythe's arm and tried to pull her in the direction of the tent flap. Even though I knew it would probably be colder out there, I thought I would do just about anything to separate them. I didn't think I could take much more of this.

Jules sat up, climbing up into a crouch. "Fine, fine," she said. "I'll go. You can stay here. It's probably still chilly out there. I probably should go talk to Sam anyway."

Jules went around us and pulled down the zipper.

Something icy suddenly dropped in my stomach. It suddenly hit me—she was about to go back with Sam, fight a horde of bloodthirsty newborns. This could be the last time I would ever see her.

Before I knew what I was doing, I reached out and seized her by the wrist. I wanted to tell her to stay. I wanted to get down on my knees and beg. But I couldn't get the words out, so I only gripped her wrist harder, so hard my knuckles were white. I looked down and thought she was trembling slightly, until I realized it was me.

"See you later, Beau," she said, without turning around. "Try to relax, okay?"

She carefully freed herself from my grip, then stepped out of the tent, zipping if up behind her. I listened for the sound of her footsteps carrying her away, but there was nothing. She moved in silence now.

I slowly curled the fingers she'd pulled out of into a fist, then sat back down on the cold tent floor. With Jules gone, it felt colder in here than I'd thought it was.

Edythe was watching me. Her eyes flickered my down to hand, then she came to sit beside me. We were both quiet for a moment.

"How much longer?" I asked at last, and my voice sounded hollow, bleak.

"Archie told Sam it should be an hour or so," Edythe said softly.

I nodded, rocking back and forth a little unconsciously, my hand still clenched.

Edythe put an arm around my shoulders, and her touch didn't feel quite so cold through Jules's parka. "Don't worry," she said softly. "They know how to handle themselves. Everything will be fine."

"Sure, sure," I muttered. I still stared straight ahead, at the flap where Jules had gone.

Edythe's brows were pulled together, looking concerned. Then she smiled a little, though her eyes continued to study my face, and she reached up to run a finger lightly along my jaw. "Would you like me to...distract you?"

At the chill of her touch, I gave an involuntary shudder, and she drew her hand back sharply.

"Maybe...maybe not right now," she said, answering her own question. She laughed a little, and maybe I was imagining it, but I thought the sound came out a little uneasy.

I finally sighed and looked away from the tent flap, meeting Edythe's worried gaze.

"I know how you can distract me," I said.

"A way that won't induce a case of hypothermia?" she asked.

I smiled. "Yeah, something else. Although I might be willing to risk the hypothermia if you were."

Edythe laughed softly, and she seemed a little less tense than she had been a moment before. "Maybe we had better try your other method first."

I shrugged. "Maybe we could just talk for awhile. Like...if you've been keeping track of the ten worst nights of your life, what are the ten best?"

Edythe laughed again. "You really always find the strangest questions to ask, Beau. Try to guess."

I frowned. "There's almost a century of nights I don't know anything about."

Edythe smiled. "Well, all my best nights have been since I met you, so that should narrow it down."

"Huh." I wasn't quite sure how else to respond. However, my cynical side made me ask a minute later, "How about the ten worst nights of your life?"

Edythe hesitated, then admitted, "Well, yes, those too."

The last thing I wanted was to make Edythe relive the ten worst nights of her life, but now I was curious.

Edythe read my expression and she sighed slightly. "My very worst night is still the the night I spent in Italy, thinking you were dead. After that...the night I left Forks, following your unfortunate birthday. There were many very bad nights in between those. Besides that...there was that day, when you went to find Joss, and I wasn't sure we would make it in time. I saw in Archie's head the vision where he saw...saw you die..."

Edythe shivered, as if from the cold.

"Anyway," she said in a slightly brighter tone, "this is getting too depressing."

"What about last night?" I asked. "Was it really...one of the worst?"

Edythe shrugged, putting on an admirable mask of indifference. "It certainly was not the happiest night I've ever spent. But...I don't know. I admitted it _might_ be mainly to placate her, as I knew she would derive great satisfaction from it."

"Sorry," I said. "I should have just told her to go. She acts like such a jerk sometimes, and I don't know what to do about it."

Edythe's expression was hard to read. "That's not your responsibility, Beau." She added, "And, I suppose it was better than seeing any of your fingers or toes turn black. You may consider them expendable, but I don't."

I shook my head, though I smiled a little.

I paused then, not sure if I should ask this, but unable to help myself. "Was I...really talking in my sleep? What did I say?"

Edythe hesitated, and I didn't miss the suddenly wary look on her face.

"Is it that bad?" I said, starting to feel a bit panicky.

Edythe sighed and shook her head. "Mostly you said my name. Like you always do."

I felt my face color a bit. Even though I knew by now, it was still a bit embarrassing to hear about.

I added cautiously, "And...what else did I say?"

Again, Edythe's voice was light as she answered, eyes focused very hard on the tent flaps straight ahead. "Toward the end, you were saying another name."

I tried not to show anything on my face, but I could have kicked myself.

"She enjoyed that quite a bit," she continued in the same light voice. "I think she took it as a sign...your subconscious is still a bit split."

I snorted, looking away. "Some people will do just about anything to delude themselves," I muttered. "I say my mom's name in my sleep, too, but that doesn't mean I'm secretly in love with her. Course I'm going to think about people who are like family to me a lot."

Edythe smiled a little, though there was some reservation in her eyes.

Wanting to change the subject, I asked again, "So what about your ten best nights?"

Edythe laughed softly. "Why don't you tell me a few of yours first? Maybe they're the same."

I blinked, frowning. I'd never thought about it before and it took me a minute to wind back.

"Well, there was that night...that night you first told me the truth. About everything."

Edythe frowned, almost disapproving. "I don't know if I would put that one on my list. You were almost shot by gangsters. And I had some anxiety the entire night you would come to your senses and try to avoid me like the plague, even though I knew that would be the best outcome."

It was true, it was an odd night to pick. At the time I wasn't really sure what Edythe's feelings were for me just yet. But it was the first night where it felt like she really opened up—more completely than ever before. And the night where I was certain for the first time that I loved her.

"Um," I said. "That first night when you...stayed."

Edythe smiled again. "That's one of mine."

"Flying home from Italy," I added. Now that I had my mind going, I could think of a lot more than I thought.

Edythe raised an eyebrow. "That one's on my list, too," she said slowly. "But I am surprised it's on yours. You seemed to be under the ludicrous impression that I was acting from a guilty conscience, and I was going to slip away back to my nonexistent distractions at the first opportunity."

I shrugged. "But I was just happy you were there, even if it was just for a little while."

Edythe laughed and took my hand, though she held it through both the coat and the parka.

"The night after Italy," I continued. I watched Edythe out of the corner of my eye. I wouldn't have been surprised if that one made one of her ten worst nights. She'd had a kind of breakdown, and then it was also the night the others had voted to turn me into a vampire.

Edythe smiled again. "That one's one of mine, too. Though maybe not for all the same reasons."

"What are your reasons?" I asked.

Edythe leaned closer, her shoulder pressing against mine. "Well, that was when I felt like I was finally able to convince you that I really did love you and you weren't dreaming. And that made me feel a little forgiven, even if I could never forgive myself."

"But I told you I didn't need to forgive you," I said, my brows coming together. "Because I was never mad." I paused. "Well, I guess I was a bit mad about that, 'it'll be as though I never existed' thing. Like that was even what I wanted."

Edythe slid her arm through mine. "So you did have to forgive me," she said, smiling. After a moment, she added, "The other reason...is that it's also the night you agreed to marry me after graduation." She closed her eyes, still smiling. "Even if it was a bit reluctantly."

I hesitated, my own irrational terror at the idea of an actual wedding warring with my new resolve after what Archie had said. After a minute I sighed, and smiled.

"Speaking of which, when are we going to set the date?"

"We still have to tell your parents," she reminded me. "I won't feel totally assured this is actually going to happen until then."

I took my hand out of the coats to take her hand directly, in spite of the cold. I pressed it to my chest, intertwining our fingers together.

"I love you," I said softly. "This is just a part of that. We're going to be together forever. I'll do whatever it takes to make you happy. From the beginning, I chose you."

Edythe gazed up at me. "I love you, too, Beau," she said softly. "More than I think you could ever realize. And...I hope you'll be able to forgive me a second time."

I frowned a little, confused. I opened my mouth to voice a question— and that was when the silence outside was ripped apart by an earsplitting howl of agony.

The sound seemed to go on forever, ricocheting off the bare rock face of the mountain and filling the air so it seemed to come from every direction. I felt the vibration of it, the pain of it, resonate deep in my chest. The agonized howl of a wolf that was almost a human sound—a scream, a sob.

When the sound finally ended, choking off into a low whine, it left behind a silence more terrible and more complete than the howl had been.

In an instant, I knew what had happened. I'd assumed she was long gone, but—she had stayed behind. She'd heard everything of our conversation just now. And now...now.

"I think she's reached her limit," Edythe murmured.

I turned my eyes to her. "You knew," I whispered. It wasn't a question.

"Yes," she said quietly.

The world spun around me. I felt sick. The sound of the wolf's howl kept echoing in my mind like a scream. I knew where she was—racing blindly through the woods, desperate to get away. Away from me.

"I've told you before I don't fight fair," Edythe said quietly. "I know that was a cruel trick, but—I thought she deserved to know."

I lurched to my feet. My eyes were wide with horror, and my breathing came in hitched gasps. I realized my eyes were burning. At the look on my face, some of Edythe's composure melted away. "Can you forgive me?" she whispered, her eyes wide.

I stood there, frozen. I could still feel the screaming howl in my chest. Finally, my wide, horrified eyes went to Edythe, and at the guilt in her face, I had to say something.

"It's not—not your fault—" I managed to choke out. "All this time, it's been all my—how could I have been so—"

I couldn't finish. My breathing was uneven, ragged. The tears burned in my eyes. Tears of guilt. Did it matter, that supposedly Jules knew what she was doing? That I had tried to tell her over and over that she was just a friend to me, that I had chosen Edythe? Just by being around her at all, of course she would keep fighting, of course that would give her some hope, no matter how small it was. All this time, I'd been doing nothing but hurting her—over and over again. She didn't deserve that.

"I—" I choked out. "I've got to—"

I blindly grabbed my boots from the floor and yanked them on, then turned for the flap. I fumbled for the zipper for a minute.

Edythe was at my side, a gentle hand on my bent back.

"It's cold out there," she said softly. "And she's miles away by now."

"I've—I've got to—" But I couldn't force out the words to explain. I couldn't just sit here, not after what I'd done. I had to _do something._

My shaking hands fought with the zipper for a moment longer, until at last I ripped it down and stumbled outside, straightening.

The light was bright outside and I had to squint and look away for a minute. I felt the chilly air against my face, and I shrugged out of Jules's parka, letting it fall to the ground. I wanted to feel the cold to the fullest—I deserved that and worse.

The land was empty in all directions, barren—even after yesterday's storm, there was almost no snow, probably blown away by the wind. What little snow there was reflected the bright sunlight painfully, and I had to avert my eyes. It took me a minute before I noticed a sand-colored wolf lying curled up on some dry pine needles some ways away. Sarah Clearwater's eyes were on me, staring at me with what I imagined was accusation.

I knew there was no hope of catching up to her, but I staggered forward regardless, toward the trees.

Edythe followed behind me, silently, and though I didn't turn to look, I saw out of the corner of my eye the colors playing off her skin in the bright sunlight.

I was a few paces into the shadow of the forest when Edythe finally reached out and caught my left wrist—the wrist with the leather bracelet and carving of the wolf.

I stopped walking, but I continued to stare out into the forest. The trees seemed to blur together.

"You can't go," Edythe said quietly. "It's almost time. It'll have to wait until after."

A thrill of horror shot through me as I suddenly remembered the fight ahead. What if something happened to her? What if she was so upset that she wasn't able to concentrate, and...

The pain and fear was suddenly too much, and I bowed my head, shaking all over. A wild desperation suddenly seized hold of me. I couldn't let her go there—not like this.

Before I really had time to think about it, I planted one foot, and with all my might, I pulled against Edythe's grip. But of course, I couldn't pull free—instead, I felt her thumb gouge into my skin.

Edythe immediately let go, looking shocked, and her eyes flickered down to her hand.

I stumbled forward a few steps, off balance. I glanced back at her still horrified face, and I felt my stomach twist. "Sorry," I managed to whisper through my closed throat, and then I turned back—coiling my muscles in preparation to run.

I suddenly felt Edythe behind me, her arms around my waist. I felt as she pressed her face into my back.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she whispered, quiet anguish in every inflection. "Let me see if I can bring her back—there's still time. Please, just wait here."

I didn't try to fight her grip this time, just stood still where I was. I felt like I needed to say something— _Please, don't be sorry, it's not your fault, it's mine._ But my throat had completely closed, and I couldn't get out another word if I tried. At last, I simply bowed my head, a single nod.

Edythe disappeared. She moved so fast that I felt her arms around me one moment, and the next they were gone. A light breeze rustled through the trees in her passing and an involuntary shiver wracked my frame.

I slowly sank to my knees. I knew it wasn't just Jules I had hurt now. I was hurting Edythe, too. So much. I had chosen Edythe, from the beginning—so if I was any kind of man at all, I'd have simply have let Jules go with composure, knowing it was the right thing. Jules hadn't overheard anything that wasn't true. I should have just told her myself long before now, so she didn't have to find out this way.

I closed my eyes. Edythe might not be able to bring Jules back. Might not catch up with her, or else might not be able to convince her. If that happened—I'd accept it. Jules was strong, she wouldn't let herself get distracted in the fight. And, if Edythe was able to bring her back—I'd finally tell her what I should have told her long ago.

It was better for us to break. Once and for all. To not be friends anymore. I could see now that all my efforts to keep us friends had just been pure selfishness on my part—underneath all Jules's bravado and tough talk, she'd been in agony all along, and I'd only made it worse. And I had to do it in order to stop hurting Edythe, too. So she wouldn't have to keep worrying, feeling threatened or insecure—it was wrong, as it had been all along.

I kept my eyes closed, concentrating on getting my composure. When Edythe brought Jules back, if she was able to, we had to talk plainly. We would break as friends, and then everything would be as it should be. Jules would finally have the chance to begin to heal, and Edythe and I would be together, with nothing coming between us.

It hurt—every time I thought about it, I felt my stomach churn, far more I knew than it would cutting things off with any other friend I had, McKayla, or even Allen. I didn't know why exactly, when there was only one thing in this world I really wanted above all else, enough that I had decided I was willing to give up all else for it—even as I tried not to think it, to feel it, this was harder, somehow.

But that didn't matter. For the sake of everyone involved, there needed to be a resolution. An end. And I would make sure there was one.

I returned to the small clearing. I didn't even look at Sarah as I headed over to the tent. Finding the canteen hanging beside the tent door, I mechanically unscrewed the lid and tilted my head back, feeling the icy water race down my throat. I rinsed out my mouth, then hung the canteen back up.

The minutes of silence seemed to stretch, and I began to pace back and forth restlessly. I could feel Sarah's eyes following me, but I didn't turn to look at her.

I jumped slightly when I heard a low whine, and I turned to see Sarah climbing to her feet, eyes on the forest. She was tense all over, and though she was in wolf form, I could feel the anxiety radiating off her.

"What is it?" I asked in a hoarse voice. However, the possibilities were already unfolding in my mind. Maybe the newborn attack had happened earlier than expected. Maybe Jules and Edythe had come too close and Edythe had decided to join in the fight after all.

The thought nearly sent me reeling. How could I have let Edythe go, now of all times?

I suddenly felt sick with dread anew as a second possibility occurred to me. Maybe they weren't fighting the newborns—maybe they were fighting with each other.

But, surely they wouldn't do that. And yet...if the wrong words were said... How close had they come to a fight just this morning, when all Jules had done was accidentally elbow me in the stomach? Had I underestimated how close the two of them had been to settling their differences with claws and teeth once and for all?

My agitated pacing had me sweating under my coat, and I discarded it, throwing it into the tent. I folded my arms against the sudden chill and kept going.

Sarah had settled back down briefly, but now she leaped to her feet again, on alert. I spun, trying to see what she saw, but I saw nothing.

Then my sweeping eyes fell on a couple of figures, approaching slowly from the western edge of the clearing.

"It's just us," Jules called from a long ways off. "Relax, Sarah."

I stared at her for a second.

Then, involuntarily, I felt myself relax, a flood of relief seeping from chest to the tips of my fingers.

Stupid. I was about to tell her we couldn't be friends again. That this was our final goodbye.

So, I wondered why it was, I felt my heart had begun to pound strangely in my chest—anxiety, that's what it had to be. The anxiety of what I was about to do.

Edythe emerged from the trees after Jules, a few steps back and to the side. The sunlight shimmered off her skin, refracting a thousand colors like light through a prism. Her face was smooth, betraying not the slightest emotion.

Sarah trotted over to them, and to my surprise it was Edythe she went to first.

Edythe paused, then nodded. "Somehow, I'm not surprised," she murmured. "The timing is going to be very close... Ask Sam to ask Archie to look again, and try to nail down the schedule more exactly."

Sarah dipped her head once in response.

I blinked, and suddenly Edythe was right beside me. She gazed up at me, nothing but concern in her eyes. "Beau," she said softly. "There's been a bit of a complication... Sarah and I are going to go to try to help straighten it out." She added softly, "I won't be far away. But I won't be listening, either. I think it's better for you to have some privacy, no matter which way..."

Edythe's face was still perfectly composed, but she couldn't seem to finish the whispered words, and she looked sharply away.

No matter how well she hid it, I knew I was hurting her. I had to promise myself I would never do something like this to her again. I had to do this—I had to put an end to this once and for all.

I took her by the hand. "Hurry back," I said softly. "Okay?"

Edythe turned to look up at me one last time, and her smile was sad. She leaned up and pressed her icy lips lightly to mine, then she turned and disappeared into the forest, Sarah a second behind her.

Jules hadn't moved from the shadow of the trees. I could see her arms were folded, but I couldn't make out her expression. We stared at each other across the clearing for a long minute.

At last, slowly, mechanically, I moved forward, step by step. I didn't stop until I came to stand in front of her, not two meters away. I could see her face now. Her dark eyes were flat—devoid of hope, no more fight left.

"Go ahead and say it," she said dully. "I'm kind of in a hurry."

I swallowed, and my throat was suddenly bone dry. The words were there, right there, but I couldn't seem to make them come out.

"Just say it," Jules said again. And there was a bitter edge to her voice this time. "Say it and be done."

I swallowed again. "I—I'm sorry." My hoarse voice cracked. "I'm sorry, I've just...screwed everything up. From the beginning I should have—"

My throat closed up and I couldn't keep going.

"A clean break?" Jules guessed, her eyes studying me. "That's what you want to say, isn't it? We shouldn't be friends anymore, we should just break it off, you go away and I don't see you again."

I hesitated, surprised to hear her put voice to my own thoughts. I managed to force myself to nod—once, very slight.

Jules sighed. "It's not going to work."

"It's what's best," I finally managed to get out in a whisper. "It might hurt now, but in the long run—"

Jules gave a derisive laugh, devoid of humor, then her eyes locked with mine. "It won't work," she said again, more fiercely this time. "It won't work because it's what neither of us really wants. You don't want to be a martyr and give up on us as friends, and you won't be able to keep it up when you realize that the last thing I want is for you to be a martyr. That I'd rather experience this pain a thousand times than see you try to force yourself to stay away."

I opened my mouth—to argue—but she cut across me.

"You already know it won't work," she insisted. "When _she_ left you, for your benefit, to try to make you fall out of love with her—tried to make a clean break—did it work? No. It made everything worse. And even if you make up your mind to stay away, you won't be able to. For a while I believed things might have been different if you hadn't jumped off that cliff—that she wouldn't have come back—but now I'm pretty sure she would have anyway. Because she couldn't stay away from you. She was obsessed with you—loved you too much. And you couldn't stay away from me either, when you saw how miserable I was, because—because you love me too, even if you don't realize it."

Before, when Jules would say those words, she always said them with a touch of smugness, and a spark of joy and hope would light her eyes. But now as she said it, I saw in her features nothing but despair.

Jules said softly, "I'm always going to be _that person_. A source of contention in your life...of guilt...guilt that you're causing her pain. You'll try to stay away for awhile... Then when you see how bad things are for me, you won't be able to help but come back to help me, and I won't be able to say no to that help, and then you'll feel guilty again... It'll just keep going like that. Unless I take that one step to stop it."

Jules's suddenly smiled, faintly, and for some reason the look sent a chill down my spine, far more than the look of despair.

She met my gaze, and her voice was stronger now, surer. "The only way to stop that from happening, the only way I can help you be happy without being held back, is for me to be completely out of the picture. Once and for all. Otherwise things will just keep going on as they have been, a circle, around and around. I don't trust myself, I know I can't stay away from you, even for your good. And I know you don't have the will to stay away from me, not when you know I'm miserable and how much I want— _need_ to see you. I know you keep blaming yourself, but I'm the one who's been tearing you in two, Beau, and since I can't trust myself not to keep doing it, there's only one thing I can do."

She took a deep, steadying breath. Then she forced herself to smile. A gentle smile, kind...strong.

"I can't be the one to make you happy the way I wanted to. But I can at least do this for you. If I can give up something to help free you, help you be happy—then I'll be happy. Right up to the end."

She took a step back, still smiling with that smile that was at once sad and kind and strong. "I won't see you again, Beau. But I'll take as many of them down as I can. Who knows? Maybe it'll make things safer for the rest of your bloodsuckers."

She breathed, one last time. She whispered, "I love you."

A cold numbness had been spreading through me as she spoke, as the words sunk in one by one. I'd meant to cut her out of my life—forever. It was the best thing for everybody.

But as she turned her back on me, I felt the strength suddenly surge back into my limbs, frantic, wild—and I knew in that moment I would say or do absolutely anything to keep her from going. Because any pain was better than the pain of seeing her die.

Moving faster than I ever knew I could, so fast I felt for a moment like a vampire, I reached out and seized her by the wrist. My hand was closed so tightly I knew I would have hurt an ordinary girl. I felt a flicker of pain as my hand tightened, and I glanced down to see the bracelet with the wolf still on my wrist. There was a touch of dried blood staining the leather, from where it must have brushed against the spot where Edythe's thumb had gouged into my wrist.

"Don't," I whispered. "Don't go. Please."

Jules stared straight ahead at the forest. "Let go, Beau," she said quietly.

My grip tightened, and I wrapped my other hand around her arm too. I gripped so tightly my knuckles shone white through my skin, so tightly she'd have to break my hands to get free. "Don't go," I whispered. "Don't go. Don't leave. I'll do anything, I swear. Just...stay here."

Jules shook her head. "What do you expect me to do, Beau?" she asked quietly. "To play your best friend forever? To go to your wedding as...what? Your sister? I could try to live like that—but would you really want me to? You chose her, Beau. That's all there is to it. This is the best—the only option. When am I going to get a chance like this again? To be able to use what little is left of my life to the fullest and make my last moments mean something?"

"Please," I whispered, choking. "Please."

Jules took a step forward, trying to pull out of my grip—get me to let go.

I didn't. Instead, I stepped forward with her, tightening my grip even more. If she went, she was either going to have to drag me along, or else rip my hands off.

"Tell me," I whispered, my voice hoarse, almost wild, "tell me what I have to say. Tell me what I have to do so you won't do this."

She snorted softly. "You're so unfair," she muttered.

Jules turned around again to face me. Her dark eyes gazed into mine. She took a step forward, coming close to me. She moved closer until I could see the depths of brown in her irises, even in the shadows of the trees.

The way the sun was angled in the sky now, the light that hadn't reached into the forest was beginning to creep in. Where were stood, bits of sunlight were edging toward us, but still didn't quite reach, still blotted out by the shadow of the still branches above.

I still held her arm in my hands, but my grip was looser now. She shifted, and one of my hands fell back. I didn't move as I felt her wind an arm around my neck, like she had before outside her house at La Push. She pressed her other hand against my chest, and she gazed up into my eyes. I didn't look away, only stared back down into hers, my entire body perfectly still, unresisting.

She leaned her head to one side and whispered in my ear, "If you want me to come back, make me believe I still have a chance."

Then she shifted and I felt as she pressed her lips to mine.

I didn't try to fight her. I just stood there, like a stone statue, feeling the disconcerting soft, unfamiliar warmth, and wondering just how far I would go to keep her alive—to keep her from making some noble sacrifice and removing herself from a world where she was still so needed.

Jules pulled back. She was panting slightly, but there was no joy in her eyes, no more hope than a moment before. She smiled a little ruefully. "No chance," she said softly. "It's pointless. But I already knew that."

She started to pull away.

One of my hands flew up, seizing her by the shoulder, and the other locking around her waist. Refusing to let her go.

She glanced up, startled, then her face settled back into a blank mask. "Let go, Beau," she said quietly. She pressed both hands lightly against my chest. I knew she could have easily pulled free if she wanted to, but instead she only signaled, trying to get me to let go by my own choice.

But I didn't. Instead, I just glared down at her, suddenly angry. Furious—furious at the thought of her giving up on life, of her taking herself away from everyone who loved her, taking herself away from me. If she _really_ loved me like she kept saying she did, why was she doing this to me? How could she think this would ever make things better for me?

Jules looked up into my face, her brow furrowed with an anger of her own. "I was wrong," she said quietly. "You don't love me. If you did, you would understand why I have to do this. But you don't."

For some reason, at that moment, as I gazed into her eyes and she said those words—an accusation that I didn't know until that moment would cut through me like a dagger—something shifted inside me. Like the shifting of rock on a mountain, sliding away to reveal something that had been buried deep underneath, concealed, underneath walls and walls of defenses.

Before I had time to recover, Jules's arm was around my neck again, and her hand was on my face. Her warm lips were suddenly against mine again, this time angry, almost forceful.

I don't know why she did it. Maybe she wanted one last memory before she went out in a blaze of glory, or maybe she thought it was the only way she might get me to let go.

But either way, it took me by surprise, her rough, raw emotion and passion pouring into me, catching me precisely at the moment when my defenses were gone.

Because I suddenly realized the truth—the truth that, as Jules had said, I hadn't been able to let myself admit, even to myself.

I stumbled backward, and suddenly we were both in the glittering sunlight. But I wasn't aware of it, or the brisk, wintry morning air. I felt like I was burning—burning where her skin touched mine, her lips against mine. My arm held her tightly against me, and my hand was in her hair.

In that moment, it felt like we were one person. Her pain was my pain, her joy was my joy. I wanted to help her bear her burdens, I wanted to make her happy... As love always did. Some part of me, the part I didn't know until this moment existed, didn't want this moment to end.

Because I knew, when it ended, her joy now would become the deepest pain, which would be my pain. I knew I deserved it, however bad it was. Because as much as I might love her, it wasn't enough. It didn't change anything—I loved her just enough to hurt her more than ever before.

Though I already knew how this would end, images flickered unbidden through my mind. For the first time, a future I'd never imagined opened up before me—a future I already knew without a shadow of a doubt would not happen. I saw myself at La Push, and Charlie and Bonnie and Sam. I saw the lines form around my eyes as the years passed, as time moved as it was supposed to, as I waited at home for her to return, ready with support and advice and love as she protected her family and the rest of the tribe. Her family—last of all I saw little ones, little kids with black hair. A son, a daughter. Who we'd love together, protect and teach, until they grew older, and the cycle of life continued.

Then the images faded. I felt something crack inside my chest, then tear away. And I knew it was the part of my heart that looked to this new vision of the future, not the one I'd already chosen. The part of me that longed for it.

Jules pulled away from me first. She gazed up at me, her eyes wide with shock and wonder. But they seemed to be dancing.

"I have to go," she whispered.

"No," I said, holding her more tightly.

She smiled. "I won't be long," she said softly. And then she leaned up and kissed me lightly, gently, before she pulled away from my weak grasp. She turned away, disappearing swiftly into the forest.

I watched her go, and then I felt my head bow.

* * *

A/N: Kind of difficult chapter to navigate when I was first writing it, since I wanted several things to play out somewhat differently than the original. But, I guess it presented some interesting challenges for that reason.

(Edit: Although actually, reading over both this chapter and the original again, in spite of popular belief, it actually really isn't that different in a side-by-side comparison. Since the initial posting, I've gone back and tweaked a few things to clarify Beau's thoughts, especially to make it more clear that he in no way blames Edythe for anything, since I felt like Beau's inability to form a complete sentence was being somewhat misinterpreted. But yes, I did decide to stick to the canon in that Beau's feelings do ultimately, unexpectedly, betray Edythe, just as Bella's did Edward. All of the original Eclipse was building toward it, still dealing with the aftermath of New Moon, and I think it would have been odd to try to change that—in spite of society's double-standard that views such a betrayal much harsher in a guy than a girl. [Though I understand Bella got a lot of hate during Eclipse, too.] Anyway, there will be a little more discussion on that in the notes next chapter.)

Thanks again to everyone for reading! Just a few chapters left to go now. If you have a moment, let me know what you thought, and see you next time!

Posted 2/12/18


	24. Tool

A/N: Hey! I made it back again! (In spite of the fact I saw many of you were trying to kill me last chapter, lol. I'll just point to Stephanie Meyer for the blame on that one [apparently plagiarism does have its advantages after all]. But, I did go back and make a few adjustments to last chapter since the initial posting. I noticed there were a couple things I felt like maybe were sending the wrong signal, though it's still the same in essence.)

Anyway, long author's note at the end for further discussion on that, if you're curious. (I realized this was a topic that probably needed to be clarified for my decision on that, plus there's one decision you'll see I made in this chapter I know may not be all that popular either.)

In any case, hope you enjoy anyway, and I'll see you at the end! C:

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Chapter 23: Tool

I sat huddled in the tent, like a criminal waiting for the cops to find him.

As the acid of guilt and shame ate its ways through my mind, I found myself thinking of an old samurai movie I'd seen once. When a samurai brought dishonor on himself or his family, the only way to restore his honor was to perform _seppuku_ , or ritual suicide by sword through the stomach.

I thought wistfully that didn't sound so bad right now. I didn't want to ever have to look myself in the face in the mirror again.

There was no sound to warn me. Not so much as a rustle of the bunched up sleeping bag—I'd pushed it aside so I could sit directly on the cold ground—or the sound of the zipper flap. One moment I sat where I was, alone, my head bowed in deepest shame, the next I felt cool fingers stroke my arm gently, soothingly.

I flinched away from her touch as the guilt hit me again.

Edythe pulled her hand back automatically, but she continued to look at me with concern. "What's wrong?" she asked softly. "What happened?"

I didn't answer. I didn't need to. Sarah Clearwater was back outside the tent, pacing, and I knew Jules had probably phased already, and the entire pack would know what I'd done. No doubt her memories would be more than vivid enough.

Edythe was quiet, and as I finally forced myself to look up at her, I saw that her face had gone blank, her eyes unfocused as she no doubt saw the memories for herself firsthand.

I felt like a coward. I suddenly had the overpowering desire to get out of the tent and make a run for it. Maybe I would find a sword somewhere. Or, if I was really lucky, maybe I would run into Victor. Some well-deserved torture before the end.

"Oh," Edythe said after a moment. "I see." Her eyes refocused on me.

I bent my head, waiting for the onslaught. After everything she had done for me. Even going so far as taking me to let me see my friend for myself, always trusting what I said that I only loved her and I only ever saw Jules as a friend—I was a worm. A loser.

The one thing I'd always consoled myself with in my unequal relationship with Edythe, the one thing I felt I didn't have to be ashamed of when I didn't have anything to offer her, was at least I was true. Faithful. My heart belonged to her and I'd never even looked at another girl.

And now I couldn't even claim that much.

However, when Edythe spoke, she didn't sound angry. She sounded almost impressed.

"Wow," she said, shaking her head. "I never thought I would live to see the day when I was bested in underhanded, unscrupulous tactics—but that day has arrived. That was a bold, artful stunt... I'll have to congratulate her when I see her next."

She continued in a musing tone, "Of course, I did warn her what I would do to her if she kissed you again without your express consent, and so _technically_ I would now have the right to cause her serious bodily discomfort—but, in light of the circumstances, and the skill of her performance, I suppose that this time I must be lenient."

I shook my head. "Are you saying..." I began in a low, hoarse voice.

"You don't really think she would have done that, do you?" she asked, smiling. "Go out in a blaze of glory so she could clear the way for me? Her worst enemy, _and_ a vampire?"

I didn't answer.

"Not that the thought of being so selfless didn't cross her mind," Edythe continued quietly. "And her pain and desperation when she overheard our conversation...that was real. That was part of why she was able to sound so convincing. But Julie Black is not the suicidal type, trust me."

I shook my head, and I realized that part didn't matter in the slightest. My desperation to save her might have started things, but it had only made me realize something that had been there all along.

My gaze dropped from hers, and the sick feeling of shame and guilt once again rose in my throat.

"I don't know how you can sit there," I muttered in a dry, hoarse voice. "Sit there like nothing's happened." I suddenly turned to glare at her. "You know now. I'm not the person you thought I was. I'm not the person _I_ thought I was."

"What kind of person did you think you were?" she asked, very gently.

"I thought—" I began, and though I choked on the words I forced myself to continue. "I thought I was _loyal_ at least. That was the only thing I ever—but all along I've just been—"

Edythe wrapped an arm around my back, rubbing my shoulder soothingly. Making me feel worse.

"It's okay, Beau," she murmured softly. "Everything is okay."

"Don't say that," I said hoarsely. "It's not okay. I betrayed you. I betrayed myself."

Edythe reached up to stroke my jaw, again kindly, soothingly. "You love her, Beau. And I think it's better that you realized that now."

I wanted to deny it. To undo my treacherous act. But as much as I could beg for forgiveness for what I had done, I knew the bigger problem was my treacherous feelings.

"I still love you more," I whispered.

Edythe sighed, stroking my cheek again, before she let her hand fall. "Yes, I know. But I'm not entirely surprised...I mean her and you. When I left, I know how badly I hurt you. And she was the one who helped you, who brought you back up again. You're bound together, you and her—I don't think you could have helped this if you tried. And I know how hard you tried, Beau. You have nothing to reproach yourself for."

I shook my head. Why did she always have to be this kind? This understanding? Why didn't she come down on me like a flaming angel of judgment, and make me beg and grovel at her feet to take me back? Or just—give me up as a lost cause, and ditch me altogether, like she should have done a long time ago?

Edythe had suddenly gone tense. At first I thought she was finally letting slip her real feelings—but then I realized she was listening to something outside.

"Is it getting close?" I asked quietly.

"Yes," she answered. "Very close. Only a few more minutes."

She was silent a moment, and then she turned her eyes to me. "I only want you to be happy, Beau," she said quietly. "Remember that, whatever you decide. I will always be yours, and whatever part you want of me will always be available to you...or none at all, if that's what you prefer. I would rather step aside, than see you tear yourself in two. Don't let your choice be clouded by any perceived past obligations or debts you feel you owe me. You have already given me everything, more than I deserve, and you owe me nothing, Beau."

I stared at the empty space in front of me. At last I muttered, "Stepping out of the way. Noble self-sacrifice. Do you mean that, or are you just taking a page out of Jules's book?"

Edythe laughed softly. "No, I really do mean it, Beau. You can have a future with Julie Black, if that's what you want. Maybe it would be a better future than one with me. I would go away, if you wished, or I would be your friend. I would help Julie Black keep you safe, and your children safe. Whatever you want of me, Beau...whatever you need of me..."

I turned to gaze down at her again, a deep slash forming between my brows. "What happened to fighting?" I asked quietly. "Aren't you going to fight back at all?"

Edythe gazed at me evenly. "That was my intention, for awhile. To fight her, to win the right of being yours. And maybe that is how a part of you wants me to love you. You want to be assured of my love by seeing me act selfishly, acting on my ferocious jealousy—which is there, make no mistake—turning you into one of us, so I can keep you for myself. I made you happy when I told you that, didn't I? But I have felt wrong all this time for having said it, and now I realize why.

"When I saw how Julie Black loved you—unashamedly, recklessly, sometimes selfishly, I found myself unconsciously imitating her. Some part of me felt that was the kind of love you craved, and I wanted to satisfy it—and yet, you were shocked when you saw me acting as she did. Because that wasn't me. I was trying to act like someone I wasn't.

"Beau, I love you. Maybe it won't always be the kind of love you want from me. Maybe, though it might seem like completely, disgustingly selfless love to you now, you'll realize that it is not everything it seems, that her love is what you really need. Her love, that took her to battle to fight for you and the people she cares about, as opposed to my love, which kept me here with you, because you asked me to. But this is the kind of love I have, and hers is the kind of love she has. The choice is yours, Beau...and I promise, I won't interfere."

We sat in silence for a long moment. I thought of everything she had said, her gentleness, her understanding. There was a depth there I had never fully appreciated before now—and I couldn't help but love her all the more for it.

"I chose you," I said, very quietly. Then, because I didn't like the past tense, I said in a stronger voice, "I _choose_ you. And I won't ever betray you again."

Edythe was quiet a moment. Then she slowly leaned her head against my shoulder. "Whatever makes you happy."

She suddenly stiffened and a moment later the sound of Sarah's strident howl cut through the quiet of the campsite.

"What?" I said, straightening, feeling my stomach plummet. "What's happening?"

Edythe relaxed slightly. She took my hand, clenched into a fist, and smoothed my fingers out. "It's close," she murmured. "Sarah wants to be there with her sisters—she doesn't like being left behind. But it will be over soon. We have training, skill, and surprise on our side—they don't stand a chance."

I turned my hand over to grip hers. "Tell me," I said. "Tell me everything."

Edythe's eyes were slightly glazed as she concentrated on Sarah's thoughts.

"The newborns are reaching the end of the trail now," she began, voice calm, like a narrator reading a play. "Jessamine's plan worked like a charm. Now they've caught the scent of the ones in the meadow, so they're splitting into two groups now, just as Archie said they would. Sam's taking the pack around to head off the ambush party..."

Her eyes suddenly refocused, snapping back to my face. "You're not breathing, Beau."

I realized she was right and I forced my lungs to start working again.

Edythe's eyes slipped out of focus again, and her attention was once again on things happening far away. She was so intent on what she was hearing and seeing that when she spoke again, I noticed she spoke in the plural, talking from the pack's point of view—as though she had become part of the hive mind, too.

"We know the first group is in the clearing—we can hear the fighting."

I was perfectly still, rigid, and I had to concentrate to make sure I was still breathing.

"It's a slaughter," Edythe continued. She smiled a little, coming out of the pack mind enough to look at me and say, "They can hear Eleanor. She seems to be enjoying herself."

Her eyes glazed over again, immersing herself in the thoughts of the pack.

"The second group is preparing themselves—but they don't know we're there. They haven't heard us yet... Ah! No, that's better. One of the newborns caught our scent, but Lee took her down before she could even turn. Sam's helping him finish her off...Paula and Jules got another one, but the element of surprise is gone. The others are wary...they don't know what we are. They're being cautious now... No, you have to keep them separated! Don't let them protect each other's backs."

I couldn't tell if this was Edythe's advice, or if she was repeating orders from Sam, but I watched her face carefully, the fight folding out in disturbing detail in my mind.

Sarah growled, then whined, as she watched her sisters fighting through their eyes.

"Yes," Edythe whispered, a touch of triumph in her face. "Now, drive them toward the clearing."

I was studying Edythe's face so closely that I noticed immediately when something changed. She went completely rigid, her face suddenly white as death.

At the same time, Sarah's growling whines immediately cut short.

I was as still as Edythe as the terror gripped my stomach. Someone was surely hurt. Maybe killed. Or was it worse than that? Had something in the plan gone terribly wrong—were they all about to be slaughtered?

 _Your fault,_ whispered a voice in the back of my mind. _Edythe is a mind-reader. If she had been there, she might have been able to give warning, enough to stop it. She could have maintained communication between the Cullens and the wolves. But you..._

I felt weak. However, before I could ask Edythe to tell me, we were very suddenly both on our feet, Edythe's arm around my waist, gripping the back of my shirt. The tent collapsed in ragged shreds around us, leaving me dazed and blinking in the blinding sunlight.

I was startled to see that Sarah was right there, her giant wolf form right in front of us, her eyes no more than six inches from Edythe's as they had some kind of lightning fast-communication. The sun shattered off Edythe's skin, sending colored glimmers dancing across the sandy fur.

Then Edythe's eyes flickered to the forest. "Go," she whispered urgently. "Go!"

Sarah wheeled around, and took off for the forest in a blur, disappearing into the shadows.

I opened my mouth to ask what was going on—if Sarah needed to be there, in that clearing—but the words were snatched from my mouth as I felt as though a gust of wind had hit me in the side of the face.

I blinked, and saw the remains of the tent someway off, and I realized we'd moved, so fast I hadn't even realized it. Edythe had moved me.

I had my back pressed to the sheer rock wall of the cliff, and Edythe stood in front of me, her back bent, defensive.

It took a second for my brain to catch up, to realize what was happening. Whatever had gone wrong, it wasn't in the clearing.

The crisis was here.

"Who?" I said simply in a low voice.

Edythe's answer was a snarl.

" _Victor,"_ she spat. She spoke very fast, not bothering to keep her voice down, and I knew that meant it was too late to hide. "He was following the newborns to watch the fight—he never intended to fight with them—when he crossed my scent. He guessed that you would be wherever I was, and he made a snap decision to follow my trail." She gritted her teeth. "And he's not alone."

Victor. And he was closing in, close enough that Edythe could hear his thoughts.

I was strangely relieved to find out it was in fact Victor behind everything, and not Sulpicia and the Volturi. Victor was obviously smart, but he was just one vampire, maybe with a few recruits. Like Joss, he could be fought, even if it was a hard battle. I didn't know everything about the vampire world, but I knew enough to know that if the Volturi were against you, you didn't stand a chance.

Edythe shifted slightly, and I turned my eyes, following her gaze to a particular part of the black forest. I was frozen where I was, barely breathing.

And finally, they appeared.

Two figures edged cautiously from the dark forest, their skin glistening like diamonds as they stepped from the shadows into the brilliant sunlight.

One was a girl. Tall, with long blond hair that fell halfway down her back, and wearing a black coat. Though she didn't look much older than me when she was changed, her features were hard, angular. Her eyes glittered a brilliant ruby, more vivid than any I had ever seen, and they burned with hunger and determination.

My eyes lingered on her a moment, then, at last, I forced my gaze to turn to the second figure. And I felt my blood freeze in my veins.

Victor was almost exactly as I remembered him. Sinewy, all liquid muscle, like a jaguar. His red hair was wild, a bright, burning color, standing up from his head like it was made of fire.

His eyes were jet black with thirst, and he was not grinning, like he'd always seemed to in my imagination. Instead his mouth was set in a firm line, eyes narrowed and calculating. His gaze shifted back and forth, between me and Edythe. However, each time, his gaze lingered longest on me.

His entire powerful body was tense, like a lion coiling to spring. Even though I couldn't read his mind, every time that hard, vicious gaze flickered to me, I knew what he was thinking.

For all these months, he'd had one purpose in mind. To kill me and finally have his revenge on Edythe. Now the target was finally in his sights—he was close. So close.

I saw immediately how this would go. It was two against one. Victor would send the girl at Edythe first, and once Edythe was distracted—even if it was only for a moment—Victor would slip in and make quick work of me. Maybe snap my neck, or tear out my beating heart. Maybe I ought to be grateful—grateful Victor wouldn't be able to torture me first as he'd originally intended.

A wolf's howl echoed in the still air, but it was off in the far distance—too far to have a chance to get here in time to help. And even if they could have, they were busy with their own battle.

The girl stood poised on the balls of her feet, watching Victor out of the corner of her eye as she waited for his command.

I guessed from the bright crimson eyes that she was a new vampire. She might be strong, stronger than Edythe, maybe faster, but she would also be without skill or experience, plus Edythe had her mind-reading. Edythe would beat her quickly, though I knew that wouldn't save me—and by extension, Edythe. If only I could have made it so one of us could escape—if I could somehow give myself up to save Edythe. But Edythe would never allow it.

Victor jerked his chin in Edythe's direction, and the girl started cautiously forward, a look of supreme concentration on her face.

"Reilynn..."

I was started to hear Edythe's voice, gentle, pleading.

The girl froze, shocked to hear her own name, said in such a familiar way.

"He's lying to you, Rei," Edythe said softly, still pleading. "Please, listen to me. He's lying to you, just as he lied to the others now being slaughtered in the clearing...as he had _you_ lie to them."

Reilynn hesitated, momentary confusion flitting across her face. In spite of her angular features, the expression made her look younger. Not quite as threatening.

Edythe shifted slightly, and Reilynn automatically mirrored the movement. Keeping herself between Edythe and Victor.

"He doesn't love you, Rei," Edythe said gently, her velvet voice almost hypnotic. "He never has. He already had a mate, and all along he's only been using you to get revenge for her."

Victor's lip curled back from his teeth, and I could see the fury in his black eyes. But his eyes remained fixed on me, never once glancing away.

Reilynn sent a frantic glance in his direction.

"Rei," Edythe murmured.

Reilynn's crimson eyes automatically refocused on Edythe.

"He knows I will kill you, Rei," she said quietly. "You are no more than an expendable piece in a game to him... But you've suspected that all along, haven't you? Seen the false note, the insincerity in his eyes as he looked at you, held you, told you that he loved you... You always suspected the deception beneath the facade."

Edythe shifted again, this time moving a few inches forward, toward the girl and away from me.

Victor watched the increased gap with sharp eyes that missed nothing. His back was bent, his legs tense as he prepared to spring forward the moment the opportunity presented itself.

More slowly this time, Reilynn repositioned herself, her mouth pressed in a hard, determined line, but her wide eyes betrayed her uncertainty. Edythe's words were having an effect on her.

"You don't have to die, Rei," Edythe said softly. "There are other ways to live...better ways. You don't have to die for his madness."

Edythe crept forward ever so slightly, shifting to the side. There was a foot of space between us now. Reilynn circled around too far, overcompensating this time. Victor was leaning, eyes fixed on me, ready to spring at any moment.

Reilynn's wide eyes turned automatically to Victor, searchingly, looking to him for answers.

"I told you about their mind tricks, Rei," he answered, and his voice was low, deep, like a tiger's growl—only softer this time, his voice almost as gentle as Edythe's. "Don't listen to her. Shut her out—you know I've only ever loved you."

Reilynn's jaw clenched tight and her eyes hardened as she turned back to Edythe. All uncertainty gone, resolve firm. She tensed, ready to spring.

Victor was ready—ready for the moment Edythe would be forced to turn, to move to attack Reilynn and leave me exposed. His black eyes narrowed, lips pulled back from his teeth in a feral snarl. His entire frame buzzed with energy.

A wild snarl cut through the campsite from the forest, and my eyes turned to see an enormous tan blur launch itself into the center of the clearing, slamming head-long into the girl. Reilynn fell backward, her back slamming into the ground, and in a moment the creature was on top of her, snarling with fury, sharp teeth flashing.

Victor roared with fury as he watched the wolf as it ripped a chunk of flesh from the girl and hurled it against the cliff face, where it hit with a smack and fell to the ground feet from where Edythe and I stood.

I watched, horrified, but Victor didn't even look at the girl as the wolf tore into her again with snarls that echoed off the rocks. His eyes were still on me, his face contorted with such rage he looked almost deranged.

"No!" he snarled, and it was a deep, almost guttural sound that made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. He took a quick step sideways, as though to make a lunge, but Edythe mirrored the movement perfectly, keeping herself between him and me all the time, her back bent defensively in front of me, her face a mask of concentration.

Reilynn was not beaten yet, and from the ground she aimed a vicious kick at Sarah. Sarah leaped back out of the way, but the strike connected with one leg. I heard a crunch of bone and she backed off, limping. Reilynn lurched to her feet, though her face was strained with pain, and I noticed one of her arms was nothing but a stump, the hand completely gone. Regardless, she bent her back, lips curling back over her teeth, ready for the fight.

My eyes flickered back to Edythe and Victor. Victor lunged to one side, then the other, trying to get closer, to find a hole in Edythe's defense. But she matched him perfectly move for move, forcing him to stay back. Sometimes she even moved a fraction of a second before he did, reading his intentions.

Sarah lunged at Reilynn from the side and her teeth found purchase, tearing another heavy pale chunk from her arm and hurling it into the forest. Sarah jumped with a nimbleness that was unreal for a creature of her size, avoiding every blow as Reilynn struck out with blinding speed with her still whole hand.

Victor had backed up now. He weaved back and forth through the trees, bouncing on the balls of his feet like a tennis player ready for a serve. He backed up another step. His eyes flickered toward the depths of the forest, then back to me, then again to the deeper forest.

I could see the conflict in his eyes—the instinct to run, to save himself to fight another day, and the instinct to kill me. The target he had stalked for months was so close...

"Victor," Edythe called, and though she spoke softly, her voice carried across the clearing.

Victor hesitated, and his gaze snapped briefly from my face to hers.

"Don't go, Victor," she murmured. "You know you'll never have another chance like this. This is the closest you'll ever be. Are you going to just give it up?"

Victor showed his teeth at her, but he hesitated, his eyes on my face again. He looked like he might bolt at any second, but something held him back. He couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from me.

"You have a talent for running, don't you?" Edythe continued in the same melodious, taunting tone. "So, you can always run later, once you've met your goal... You know, I wondered why someone like Joss would have chosen someone like you. Why she kept you. But now I see. You had a talent she found useful for her games."

Victor's eyes were black as pitch and he looked at Edythe with pure hatred.

A hint of a cold smile touched Edythe's lips. "She never cared about you, you know," she breathed. "You were a tool, a convenience, no more than that girl over there is to you."

Edythe's eyelids sank. She whispered, "I really don't know why you've bothered to go to all this trouble when she never even loved you..."

Victor let loose a roar of rage, and he came bolting from the forest again like a wild animal. However, at the last second he feinted to the side to catch Edythe off guard, but she anticipated him and was instantly in front of him. His eyes blazed as he jumped back, but he didn't back toward the forest again. Instead I watched the blur of his form as he feinted left, then right, but was blocked at every turn, as Edythe moved so fast in response that for moments at a time she seemed no more substantial than a breath of mist.

Just then Reilynn's good fist caught Sarah's flank and she staggered back, a low yelp coughing from her throat. She backed away, shoulders twitching as if trying to shake off the pain.

I was rooted to the spot, watching both fights with horror. Sarah, fighting that monster—in my mind I saw the smiling girl that looked no older than twelve. And here she was, fighting in a dangerous battle where at any moment it might be her end.

Edythe had more experience, and the advantage of mind-reading—and yet watching that turned my stomach every bit as much. To see Edythe's small, slight form go up against the lion-like speed and power that was Victor. He was like a wild animal in human form, too ferocious to be denied anything he set his dark, hungry eyes upon.

Reilynn was advancing on Sarah, driving her back toward the cliff face beside me.

Victor watched out of the corner of his eye, for some reason suddenly interested again. I saw the spark of an idea in his dark eyes.

Edythe laughed. The sound was cold and harsh, and I could see from the side of her face as she smiled again. "Too bad, Victor," she said softly, with just a hint of a sneer. "She won't turn on me."

Sarah was no longer limping, and she was beginning to circle, snapping at Reilynn to keep her from even thinking of approaching me. As though to prove Edythe's words, Sarah's movement took her within feet of Edythe, so close her tail brushed Edythe's back.

Victor's eyes widened with shock, then narrowed again, fury redoubled.

In his moments of distraction, Edythe had moved an inch closer to him. She continued in a low, melodious voice, "But while we're here, Victor, shall I tell you what else I gleaned from Joss's thoughts before the end? After everything you've done for her, everything you've been through, I think you deserve to know..." Another inch.

Victor growled, shaking his head as though to fight her attempts to distract him, but his eyes seemed unable to move from hers—his real enemy. The one all along he hated the most, who had been the true target of his vengeance all along.

"She never forgave you, you know," Edythe breathed, her voice so low I almost didn't catch it. Her face was a mask of concentration, and yet as she spoke I saw a burning light in her eyes. Her inhumanly beautiful face seemed alight with taunting satisfaction.

Edythe continued, "For getting in her way. Her one failure, and it was because of you. She only stayed with you because you still made a useful tool. Without your convenient ability, she would have dropped you in a heartbeat."

Victor's rage was radiating off him in waves. " _You are a liar_ ," he said in a low, dangerous voice, and once again the last word sounded like the growl of a lion.

Edythe had shifted another half inch. Her eyes were focused with absolute, deadly concentration on Victor, but her mouth was turned up a little at the corner. "You can choose not to believe it if that's easier. I just thought you deserved to hear the truth."

Victor was visibly trembling with fury, but then he stilled, breathing deeply in, mastering himself. His face was still contorted, and yet I could tell each movement was pure precision, nothing motivated by emotion.

Victor was no inexperienced, instinct-driven newborn. He was something different—a fighter. A good fighter, who knew exactly what he was doing. I knew if Sarah had taken on him instead of the newborn, she'd probably already be dead.

However, for every move of Victor's, Edythe matched him. They were slowly closing in on each other now, Victor sashaying back and forth, searching for an opening to get to me, Edythe keeping pace perfectly, always keeping directly between us. Closer and closer they grew—until they met.

They moved so fast, hands slashing out in powerful strikes no more than a series of blurs to my weak human eyes, than I couldn't tell what was happening. I heard sharp metallic crunches and cracks as someone made mistakes, but I couldn't tell who it was. Who was winning.

The fight drew the attention of the newborn for a split second—perhaps concerned for her partner—and in that moment Sarah struck, teeth seizing Reilynn by the stump of her bad arm. Another white piece of flesh came free, and Sarah tossed it away.

The girl gave a roar of fury, and spun. On instinct she lashed out with her good hand, striking Sarah hard in the chest.

Sarah was thrown back, and her back struck the cliff face with a sickening crunch. Shards of rock rained down on my head as Sarah fell back to the ground barely feet from me.

She tried to hobble to her feet, but collapsed back with a weak whine of pain. Reilynn advanced.

I could feel my heart hammering in my chest as I realized what very well may be about to happen. Sarah was about to lose her fight. And if that happened, Edythe would be outnumbered. If she tried to fight one, the other one would be able to take advantage and strike.

I still couldn't tell if Edythe was winning or losing against Victor, and I felt the panic and terror rise inside me—but there was nothing I could do about that now. But Sarah—she was close. Maybe even I, a weak and helpless human, could do something. As my mind flashed back to the old legends of the Quileutes, I knew exactly what to do.

Reilynn was advancing on Sarah's shuddering form as I bent to the ground and picked up a sharp shard of rock. Grabbing the sleeve of my sweater I yanked it up, then pressed the tip of the stone to the crook of my elbow. I didn't know if Sarah would be able to heal fast enough to act, but this was the only thing I could do. I drew in a quick breath—then forced the rock to pierce the skin.

A crimson line appeared as I forced the rock up my arm, and the liquid spilled over, dripping onto the rock beneath my feet.

Reilynn did not react. Perhaps she was so focused on the wolf in front of her she did not see the appetizing red liquid, or perhaps the wind was simply not blowing in the right direction for her to smell it. She lurched forward, mouth opening wide as she prepared to rip out the wolf's throat.

However, as I wondered if I needed to choose a spot that would bleed more profusely, if I needed to pierce deep enough to hit an artery—Victor _did_ react.

His black eyes found me for just a fraction of a moment. However, he didn't look wild with uncontrollable thirst or a desire to murder me, as in the legend. Instead, he looked almost confused.

The blurred-out fight came to an abrupt end. So fast it took my mind a moment to catch up and comprehend, Victor flew back, like a bullet from a gun, and his back slammed into a spruce tree across the clearing. When he dropped to the ground, however, he was already crouched and ready to spring again.

In that same moment, Edythe went to Sarah's aid. She twisted back and caught Reilynn, still distracted by her own opponent, seizing her still-good arm and wrenching it back. In a blur I couldn't make sense of until it was over, I saw Edythe sink her knee into Reilynn's back, holding her in place, then, planting her other foot on the ground, she pulled in a swift, violent motion. Suddenly Reilynn's good arm was disconnected from her body with a metallic screech, and the sound mingled with her matching shriek of agony.

Sarah instantly leaped to her feet, and charged after Reilynn's deformed figure.

In that moment, Victor looked straight at me, his way finally unblocked, and his wild face contorted in a terrible grin. He was bent almost double, as though he couldn't stand up properly, but it didn't seem to matter as he launched himself straight at me in a flash of teeth and power.

" _Victor!_ "

The shriek of terror was Reilynn's, as I saw out of my peripheral vision as Sarah pounced on her, pinning her to the ground. Sarah's teeth sunk deep into the shoulder of Reilynn's remaining arm and, with another metallic screech, it, too, was flung into the forest.

Victor didn't even spare her a glance as he sped toward me, his eyes wild with a fierce joy—

Without warning, Edythe was suddenly there again, blocking his path, her face even and smooth, back bent defensively, but otherwise I could make out no sign of injury in her posture.

Victor came to a stop, and his wild eyes burned with insane rage and ferocious disappointment. For the first time, his gaze flickered momentarily to Reilynn. Her screams had abruptly cut off, and now only the metallic shrieking as Sarah continued to tear the inert form apart continued. There was not so much as a flicker of pain in his eyes, no mourning, only the bitterness of disappointed hopes as he realized he was alone, and his chance to get me was gone, once and for all.

With a snarl of frustration and an oath, he backed away slowly, then abruptly spun, taking off for the forest. He was like a missile, a blur of red and white.

But Edythe was faster.

I was watching Victor escape, rushing toward the protection of the forest, and I hadn't even realized Edythe had gone until I saw her there, right behind him.

She caught his unprotected back, right at the edge of the forest. I saw her small white hands flash, glittering like diamonds in the bright sunlight, with a movement at once so slight it looked almost gentle—and also violently, brutally efficient.

As I watched, Victor's head toppled from his shoulders, rolling toward the shadow of the trees.

* * *

A/N: Hey! C:

So, I know many of you wanted to kill me last chapter, and I won't be surprised if quite a few of you want to kill me this chapter too. I don't know if it will help, but I'll go ahead and try to explain some of my thoughts on a couple of particular decisions.

First, Beau's betrayal—this is one part of Eclipse that was always in the cards to stay about the same as the original. Just as Bella unwittingly fell in love with Jacob in Edward's absence (as confirmed by Stephanie Meyer in at least one interview), Beau also had fallen in love with Jules, but because Bella/Beau are inherently such loyal/stubborn people, and because it's such a different kind of love from that with Edward/Edythe, it took the later events in Eclipse for them to finally be made aware of it. (The actions and nuances of emotion played out pretty much the same for Beau as for Bella.)

Of course, in Breaking Dawn, after Jacob imprints on Renesme, Bella and Jacob attribute this love and the intensity of it to something to do with that. Some of you have asked me how that will work out in my Breaking Dawn, considering there's no imprinting—the truth is, that tidbit from Breaking Dawn was something I was never fully comfortable with. It came across to me as simply an excuse to eliminate Bella's culpability in the whole thing, not to mention it felt a bit dismissive of the real bond Jacob and Bella had forged through being there for one another in difficult times throughout the books. (So I personally didn't mind having that aspect eliminated entirely for this Reimagined version.)

And now, the other perhaps not so popular decision... Edythe's reaction to Beau's betrayal.

Long before we even got to the chapter I just posted last time, I'd already had more than one person ask me if I would consider altering Edward's response to Bella's betrayal for Edythe. Although I already had the draft of this chapter written long before that, I did think it through again, and wondered if there could be any in-character portrayal of Edythe that could make her come across a little more upset, a little more angry and betrayed in the whole thing. And, looking at the situation critically again—I couldn't see any way that Edythe would ever act differently from Edward here.

Of course, in a normal relationship situation, the girlfriend/boyfriend of the person who seems to be falling/has fallen for someone else is going to struggle with feelings of hurt and betrayal, and an overly quick response of 'I forgive you, everyone makes mistakes' (without pausing to reflect on what it means in terms of the betrayer's character and integrity, or holding them accountable for their choices) often would indicate the opposite of a healthy relationship.

However, the situation here isn't normal, for several reasons. First, Edythe knows that she's the one who ultimately instigated this by leaving Beau in New Moon, that Jules was there for him to help him during a dark period in his life when she wasn't. Edythe knows that it's because of her interference in his life that he is probably going to have to become a vampire, and be separated from his family. She knows that Jules intentionally brought the situation about through manipulation (which Edythe herself instigated by revealing to Jules the truth about her and Beau's engagement on the sly, making her desperate) and she knows that Beau has not been lying to her or deliberately going behind her back, and that he was as surprised to find out about his feelings as anyone else. She also knows just how horribly guilty Beau feels already.

Under all these circumstances, I just didn't see Edythe would ever be righteously up-in-arms about what Beau did, or try in any way to make him feel worse as punishment. Edythe's kindness and understanding toward Beau is part of who she is, and I'm sure if the situation were reversed, Beau would also give Edythe the freedom to decide what was best for her, without blaming her for anything, or trying to add to her guilt, as Edythe does. I would agree that the fact that Edythe never holds Beau responsible for anything he has done (in fact, I personally think Beau's emotionally manipulating Edythe into staying with him even if it meant a potentially greater risk to her family was much more despicable than his momentarily giving in to his unexpectedly discovered feelings for Jules) is in fact a flaw, but it's one that, at the moment, is integral to who she is, and won't change so easily.

Anyway, those were my thoughts as I was working on these chapters. I think part of what I like about the Twilight series is that the characters don't always do what you want them to do, and things aren't always neat and easy. So even if some things change here and there over the genderswap, that is something I wanted to preserve in the events here.

Thank you all again so much for reading, and for all your feedback last chapter! You all help me refine my thinking more than you know, even if there are many disparate opinions on how things are playing out. Not sure Beau will ever be able to completely redeem himself, and he might dig himself a bit deeper in the next couple of chapters, but then, if he was too perfect he might have to get hated for that too. (I know I would.) If you have a moment, let me know what you thought, and see you next time! C:

Posted 3/12/18


	25. Mirror

A/N: Hey! Wasn't quite able to get to this chapter last week (we're on the second and final round of revisions for the book I'm helping with on the editing, and I realized I really wasn't moving fast enough on it if I was going to make the deadline), plus some other projects were due for some attention. But! Hopefully I'll be able to get to the next chapters a bit faster. C:

Just a head's up, there's going to be another stepping-outside-canon moment coming up this chapter, similar to the direction I decided to go with the imprinting. There's a reason why I decided to go this way, which I'll discuss a little more at the end.

Hope you enjoy, and see you at the end! :J

* * *

Chapter 24: Mirror

I stared, unable to look away, into the black eyes of the head where it stopped moving just before the treeline, the rainbows still shattering off the skin like light through a prism.

However, my eyes finally lifted when I caught movement—Edythe's hands flashed again, so fast I couldn't follow them as she tore the body to unrecognizable pieces. Her face was dispassionate, focused, and never once did she look away from her grisly work.

I was frozen where I was, but I studied her every movement carefully, taking it in. And slowly, I was able to reassure myself that she was absolutely fine—she stood straight, perfect, without a hint of a limp or so much as a single tear in her clothing.

I watched as she calmly piled the twitching limbs in one place, then gathered dry pine needles to lay over them.

Then, without once looking at me, she turned and disappeared into the forest. Moments later, she reappeared, Sarah beside her, and she had in her arms more white chunks of flesh—what was left of Reilynn. Sarah was carrying the torso in her teeth.

They deposited the pieces on top of the pile. Among Edythe's, I caught sight of Reilynn's head, which she held by the roots of her long, straightened blond hair. Edythe dropped it on top, and I felt my stomach lurch. For a moment I stood, staring into the empty, glassy eyes.

Edythe drew a small silver object from her pocket—a butane lighter—and held the flame to the dry tinder. At once, the tinder caught, and spread over the pyre, tongues of orange flames stretching toward the sky. For a second Edythe stood and watched it, her face even and placid, as though mesmerized, and I saw the reflection of the flames in her eyes. Then she turned away.

"Make sure you get everything," Edythe said quietly to Sarah, and Sarah turned, walking about the campsite, every now and then seizing a white chunk of rock-like flesh and taking it back to hurl into the burning pile. Edythe prowled the campsite too, once or twice crouching down and taking a piece of body to be thrown with the others.

Finally they both stopped, apparently satisfied they had gotten it all, and they turned to watch the fire burn for the moment. A pillar of choking purple smoke was billowing toward the sky now, giving off the strong odor of burning incense. It was too sickly sweet, overpowering.

I saw Sarah show all her teeth in a wolf grin, and Edythe was suddenly smiling too, a fierce smile of triumph.

"Nice teamwork," Edythe murmured.

Sarah made a coughing sound, almost like a laugh.

Then the smile slowly faded from Edythe's face, and the light of victory in her eyes darkened. At last, she slowly turned to face me. Her face was suddenly wary, cautious. As though I were another enemy she had to face. Her eyes flickered down to the wound on my arm, then back up to my face. She didn't move.

I opened my mouth to say something—probably something dumb. But I couldn't get a single word out. I just stood there, staring at her, my mouth hanging open like an idiot.

Edythe took a hesitant, experimental step forward, toward me. Then she took another, and another. I just stood there, rooted to the spot, staring at her in a daze.

"Beau?" she said cautiously. Her eyes flickered down to my arm. "We should...treat that."

Edythe came forward another step. Her hands were out, palms forward, like she was trying to calm an injured animal. Or like she was a surrendering criminal, trying to keep an approaching police officer from shooting.

My brain was starting to work again, enough to realize that this was extremely bizarre behavior. It was finally over—Victor was gone. We were finally safe again. So why was Edythe looking at me with eyes that seemed so afraid?

As I unfroze, the images from the battle moments ago made a deep shudder run down my spine. Edythe stopped, freezing where she was. Her wary eyes studied my face.

"It's okay," she murmured in a low, soothing voice. "It's okay, Beau, it's over."

At last my body started working again, and I took two staggering, lurching steps forward. I didn't so much embrace her as fall into her. Her still body was hard and icy against mine, but I didn't care as I wrapped my arms around her, and buried my face in her hair.

"Edythe," I managed to gasp. "Edythe."

She was frozen for a second, then her arms slowly slid around my back, one hand going comfortingly to stroke the back of my head. I moved my face to her shoulder, and she murmured, "It's okay, it's over. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, it's okay..."

I didn't know exactly what she was apologizing for, but I didn't ask, instead using the little breath I'd gained back to finally ask the more important question. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," she said softly. "Absolutely fine, he never touched me."

"Sarah?"

Edythe laughed softly. "She's fine, too. Proud. Her first real battle. I'm a little worried she's going to turn into some kind of street ruffian after this, looking for fights all the time. She really enjoyed herself."

I frowned, suddenly picturing little Sarah with arm tattoos and walking around with a swagger. I shook my head.

"What about the others? Archie, Carine—the wolves?"

Edythe pulled back from me, and she was smiling. "Everyone's all right. The battle went as smoothly as we projected it would—the only wrinkle was here."

I let that sink in for a moment, then I smiled back. "Wow," I said. However, a moment later I frowned. "So...a second ago you were acting kind of weird. Like you were afraid of me. That kind of freaked me out." I was relieved my voice seemed to be completely working again, and it sounded relatively normal.

Edythe hesitated.

"What?" I tried to force myself to sound blasé. "You think I couldn't handle a bit of violence without fainting in shock or something?"

Edythe sighed. "No," she said, not meeting my eyes. "It's just...I guess that was a part of my love for you that I'd rather you didn't have to see. I want to show you the good part, the selfless part—not the ugly part. The things I said, the things I did...I know they weren't pretty." Her eyes drifted again to the fire, still blazing. Her gaze was distant.

"You know," she murmured, almost to herself, "When I looked into his face, for just a moment, I almost thought..."

She trailed off, and whatever she was thinking, she didn't finish. She shivered, and her eyes remained fixed on the ground.

I didn't know what she was talking about, and I just rubbed her arm. "Victor was trying to hurt us," I said. " _He_ attacked _us_. I feel a bit bad for that Reilynn girl—but she had her chance, and she made her choice. The way I see it, you couldn't have done anything different. You couldn't just let him get away, or he would have just been back again."

When Edythe didn't reply, I went on, "I guess a part of me almost feels bad for him—Victor, I mean. He went to all this trouble for vengeance, and Joss never even cared about him. It's almost...tragic, isn't it?"

Edythe's eyes finally rose back to mine, and there was a look there I couldn't interpret. After a moment she looked away again, and her wandering gaze fell to the wound on my arm.

"We need to take care of that," she said, and she returned to the remains of the tent, where the pack still lay, and she came back a moment later with the first-aid kit.

I watched her clean the wound, clearing away the blood, and then applying antibiotic. The cut wasn't deep, and the bleeding was already pretty much stopped. She began to wind the gauze around it with expert precision, neither too loose nor too tight.

"I don't know what you were thinking," she muttered as she worked. "Unless you were trying to give me a heart attack—or whatever it is we vampires do when we go into shock."

"I thought maybe I could distract Reilynn," I said, with what I hoped was a nonchalant tone. "She _is_ a newborn. I thought it might give Sarah a chance to get her."

Edythe muttered an oath. "And where, may I ask, did such an _idiotic_ idea come from?"

I was a little miffed. "It worked in one of the Quileute legends. Didn't work so well here, I don't think Reilynn even noticed. Maybe I needed to be closer. Luckily Sarah recovered in time."

Edythe shook her head. "She wasn't that badly hurt. She was playing it up, hoping to catch her opponent by surprise. I only interfered because I was afraid your stunt would attract Reilynn's attention and get you killed before Sarah could take care of her."

I frowned, digesting that. My eyes dipped to the ground, and I could feel red splotches creeping up my neck. "...Oh."

Edythe sighed, relenting. "But, I suppose you did distract Victor for a second, which allowed me the moment I needed to help take Reilynn, which in turn, let us end the fight faster. Victor was startled. He didn't understand what you were trying to do—why you would be so foolish."

I was a little mollified.

Edythe noticed the injury on my wrist too, and she began rubbing antibiotic into that, though it was already dried over, and I figured it would begin to scab soon.

She sighed and shook her head. "Sometimes," she muttered, "when it comes to keeping you safe, I think _you're_ my biggest obstacle."

"Sorry." I added under my breath, "Not for much longer, though." Not when I was a vampire.

A flash of pain flitted across her features, then they were smooth again. She gently touched the gauze where the cut was, running a soothing cool finger down it, then she turned.

"We should get going," she said abruptly. "The fight is over, but...I'm afraid there's going to be one more wrinkle."

"Wrinkle?" I said, frowning. "This isn't over?"

However, as I said the words, another wrinkle did occur to me—though I was sure it was not the wrinkle Edythe was referring to.

I thought of Jules, and our last moments on the edge of the forest. It felt like something constricted inside my chest, so tight something cracked. I felt a burning, so much worse than the cut along my arm. And as I wondered what I would say to her, I suddenly knew the hardest part of this day was not behind me.

Edythe's expression was grim. "Well, it seems—"

She broke off, and a flicker of alarm passed across her face. Her eyes suddenly shot to Sarah, as though Sarah had called her name.

They stared at each other for one long second. Sarah whined, an anxious, uneasy sound.

"What is he—" Edythe began. Then her face turned the color of ash. She started to shout something, but the sound was drowned in Sarah's earth-shattering howl. It tore through the air, making the ground quiver beneath my feet. A spasm rocked her huge body.

Edythe fell to her knees, hands pressed to her ears as though trying to shut out the noise. She didn't seem to see me as I knelt down in front of her. I stared into her contorted features with my own panicked terror, helpless.

Then Edythe's stricken posture sagged slightly, though her eyes remained wide, staring straight ahead. "Fine," she whispered. "Going to be fine. Help her, Sam..."

I grabbed Edythe by the shoulders. "What is it?" I whispered frantically. "What happened? Something in the clearing?"

Edythe blinked, and her faraway eyes suddenly refocused on me. She stared at me for a long second, and some of the horror seemed to return, just for an instant. Then she blinked again. "We've got to go," she whispered.

Her eyes turned swiftly to Sarah, who was trembling all over, eyes on the forest as though she meant to launch herself into it. "Go straight home," Edythe ordered. "Now! As fast as you can!"

Sarah hesitated, eyes turning back to Edythe. Then, with one jerk of the head that might have been a nod, she bolted into the forest in another direction.

Edythe didn't speak another word to me, didn't wait for me to climb awkwardly onto her back. Putting an arm around my back and the other behind my legs, we were suddenly hurtling through the trees, me folded up in her arms. I looked up to see her face was grim, a mask of concentration.

"What is it?" My question came out a hoarse rasp. "What's going on? What happened to the pack? Where are we going?"

"The clearing," Edythe answered curtly. "It seems like Sulpicia was finally able to spare a few guards. We've been expecting this—Archie saw it this morning and passed it along to Samantha, and to me through Sarah."

Edythe was still running at top speed, the trees jolting passed us, running together like water paints down a canvas.

I shook my head, trying to make my brain make sense of it. "So...So they're here to take care of Victor."

Edythe's mouth was tight. "Maybe. But...this timing...it's almost like they were waiting for the battle to be over before they approached." When she saw my expression, she shook her head, and tried to make her voice lighter. "But, this way is probably for the best. It would not have been...favorable, if the Volturi guards had come during the battle and came across the wolves. The wolves are explosive, unpredictable—everything Sulpicia considers a threat to her order."

I nodded, and yet I felt cold. There was something wrong in all this. The Volturi hanging back—waiting until after the battle to come, when we could have used the help earlier.

"Why?" I said quietly. "Why would they wait?"

Edythe's brow furrowed, and her face was grim. "I don't know. But I think we'll find out when we get there."

I felt like a coward for asking, but as the memories of the long dark cloaks and the knowledge graduation was over and I was still very human and vulnerable flashed through my mind, I had to. "Do we...have to be there?"

Edythe's voice was steady as she answered. "Better that we are. Jonathan is with them, and Cato and Tacita—from Archie's vision, Tacita's clearly been instructed to ask after you specifically, and with Tacita and Cato's combined tracking ability, they could easily track me down if they chose to. Better if we're with the others, and can present a united front."

I nodded slowly. I could feel the fear bubbling in my stomach as I thought of Jonathan, his cruel smile, his cold, crimson eyes. I shuddered slightly, and I felt Edythe's grip on me tighten.

"And..." I whispered. "What about the wolves?"

Edythe knew what I was asking. I hadn't forgotten Sarah's howl of agony or the look on Edythe's face as she saw whatever had happened to one of their own.

Edythe stared straight ahead, at the jade trees racing past. She didn't look at me.

"Tell me, Edythe," I said, and my low hoarse voice cracked.

She breathed deeply. "Something at the end. The wolves thought they'd gotten all their share of the newborns. But...one was hiding."

My stomach contracted. It couldn't be.

"Lee found her. He went at her on his own—overconfident. Cocky. He engaged her without waiting for backup."

"Lee," I breathed. A relief I was ashamed of flooded through me, followed by more appropriate concern. "Is he...going to be okay?"

Silence.

Edythe said very quietly, with obvious pain, "Lee...wasn't hurt."

I stared up at her face, which continued to gaze straight ahead.

At last she said, voice low, "We're almost there."

I turned my head this time to see what she was looking at. I picked it out almost right away—a purple column of thick smoke, just like the one at our campsite. Only thicker, bigger.

I couldn't be distracted for long and my eyes returned to Edythe's face.

"Someone was hurt, though," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Yes," she whispered.

I didn't want to ask the question. Maybe because somehow, I already knew the answer. But I had to know for sure.

"Who?" My hoarse voice was barely above a whisper.

The trees were slowing down around us as we drew near our destination.

For the first time, Edythe dropped her gaze to meet mine. I saw the apology and regret in her face, and it was answer enough.

I felt a weakness spreading through my entire body. My limbs felt limp, I couldn't seem to think.

"She's going to live," Edythe whispered hurriedly. "She's going to be okay. Here...we're almost there. I'll let you talk to Carine. She treated her, or started to."

I nodded. Some distant part of me knew it wasn't right, letting Edythe see what I was feeling so plainly on my face—forcing her into the role of reassuring me—but I couldn't seem to stop it. My earlier treacherous discovery was still too fresh inside me, and at her words, I felt some of the pressure I'd felt drop down on my chest lift. Still my fists remained clenched, my stomach felt tight, like I might throw up.

Edythe slowed to a walk as we entered the clearing, the same clearing they had played war games in preparation for the battle. She approached Archie first, who was grinning and looking ridiculously relaxed.

"How long do we have?" Edythe asked him.

Archie shrugged. "Another five minutes. Don't worry, it's going to be fine."

Edythe seemed to realize she was still carrying me princess-style, and she let me down.

Maybe she shouldn't have. I was beyond embarrassment at the moment, and as soon as my feet touched the ground, my weak knees gave out and Edythe reached out quickly to catch me.

"Carine," she called in a low voice, and Carine turned her eyes to us, immediately approaching, brow furrowed with concern.

"Carine," Edythe said in a low, urgent voice, "he wants to know about Julie Black."

Carine took one look at me, then nodded once. "Her life isn't in any danger. I examined her myself. She is healing at an incredible rate, though her injuries were quite extensive... I think it will take her a few days to recover fully. As soon as this is over, I will be going back over to do what I can for her. Samantha is trying to get her to phase back to human form. That will make treating her easier." She smiled ruefully. "Unfortunately, I have never been to veterinarian school."

I looked between Edythe and Carine. Once again, I tried to keep my voice steady, though I didn't quite succeed. "What...happened exactly?"

Carine's face was somber again. "Another wolf was in danger. She knocked him out of the way, but that, unfortunately, left her vulnerable."

Edythe said quietly, "The newborn got her arms around her. Only for a moment, but...most of the bones on the right half of her body were shattered."

I flinched and, before I could stop it, I felt my hand gripping Edythe's shoulder tighten convulsively to keep myself upright. My breathing was shallow. "...Permanent?" I managed to say.

Carine understood what I meant. "No," she said softly. "There will be no permanent damage. She will recover completely."

I nodded once, and looked away.

"Three minutes," Archie muttered to Edythe.

That brought my mind back to the present situation at hand. I closed my eyes and concentrated on breathing, deeply and evenly. I did my best to force all that from my mind for the moment. Still the horror and terror continued to eat through me like a live animal—but the fact Carine and Edythe had said it was going to be okay would have to be good enough for now. At least until this crisis was past.

The Cullens stood in a loose semicircle around the bonfire. The fire was hardly visible through the column of thick purple-black smoke, and it formed a sharp contrast to the emerald green grass of the clearing and the bright, glittering figures surrounding it.

I noticed Jessamine, standing with her back to us, in the shadow of the smoke, so her alabaster skin didn't glitter the way the others' did. She was bent slightly, and she seemed to be watching something intently.

I squinted at the object in the grass beside the pillar of flames, and I sucked in an involuntary gasp as the object moved. I saw beneath Jessamine's outstretched arm a pair of eyes, both a shockingly bright crimson, brighter than Reilynn's, so bright they almost glowed in the gloom. He stared straight at me.

"He surrendered," Edythe said quietly. "He said he didn't want to fight and Carine agreed to spare him... Jessamine doesn't like it."

Edythe studied the boy with a cool expression, and I looked at him, too. He looked about my age, maybe a little younger. He was built slight, slighter than me, and had short dark hair.

Without warning, he suddenly threw back his head and let loose an animalistic howl.

Jessamine snarled and he shrank back. His fingers dug trenches in the dirt like claws, and he shook his head wildly, desperately. Jessamine took a step closer, slipping deeper into her crouch, ready to spring at any moment.

Edythe casually took a step to the side, putting herself between me and him. However, I could still see him over Edythe's head, and I couldn't seem to tear my eyes away.

Carine was at Jessamine's side in an instant, and she placed a calming hand on her shoulder. Her eyes turned to the boy. She spoke calmly, resolutely. "Be still, young one. We have no desire to destroy you, but you must exercise control or we will have no choice."

"How can you stand it?" he asked through gritted teeth, eyes fastened on me. He was bent nearly to the ground, trembling all over, nostrils dilated, eyes wild.

"You must stand it," Carine said solemnly. "It is possible to learn control...and it is the only thing that will save you now."

The boy clutched his hands to his head, shutting his eyes tight, but a moment later they were open again, his crimson eyes focused all on me. Even the universal beauty all vampires shared was distorted, barely recognizable on his savage face, twisted with rage and thirst. He stared at me with feral intensity.

I couldn't look away from him, either. And I wondered if I was looking into a mirror of my future.

I was about to ask whether maybe we ought to move away from him when I felt Edythe suddenly go very still beside me.

Carine and Jessamine backed toward the rest of us, while Eleanor, Royal and Earnest all converged on where Edythe, Archie and I stood. I was in the center, behind the wall of defense, the united front.

I forced my eyes away from the boy, staring at the far side of the clearing, to the north, looking for them.

I couldn't see them at first. I only saw smoke—dense, oily, twisting low to the ground, drifting toward us lazily as though driven by the wind. However, as I squinted, I saw a dark mass appear in the center.

"Hmm," a dead voice murmured from the dark mist. I felt my stomach turn to ice—I would recognize that apathy anywhere.

"Jonathan," Edythe said in an even tone, inclining her head in acknowledgment, voice coolly polite.

I saw four dark shapes solidify in the haze. Jonathan strode ahead in front, his long dark cloak whipped by the wind and his soft, childlike features obscured by his deep hood.

My eyes turned to the other three figures behind him. In spite of the long hoods casting their faces in shadow and hiding their eyes, I thought I recognized them. I guessed the smaller one to be Alexa, the sister Jonathan didn't seem to go anywhere without, and I thought the taller one probably had to be Cato, the long-distance tracker. The other one—female, I thought—tilted back her head and let her hood fall back enough that her intense, crimson eyes stared right at me. Tacita.

Edythe was tense beside me.

Jonathan's eyes drifted slowly across the luminous faces of the Cullens, and finally fell on the boy, curled up on the ground beside the fire.

"Hmm," he drawled. "What is _that_?"

"He has surrendered," Edythe answered.

Jonathan's dark eyes returned to Edythe's face, and for the first time, I saw the barest flicker of surprise there. "Surrendered?"

"He didn't want to fight," Edythe explained. "Carine gave him the option."

A hissing voice spoke, not Jonathan this time, but Tacita. "There is no mercy for those who break the laws."

As Tacita spoke, her eyes remained riveted, not on the boy, but on me.

Carine answered mildly. "I saw no reason to destroy him, so long as he no longer had the will to fight us. It seems he was never taught. But that is in your hands, of course."

Jonathan looked annoyed. "Indeed, that is for _us_ to decide," he said.

His eyes swept the clearing again, briefly resting on the pile of burning corpses. "Well, it seems that you've already taken care of the problem, so we didn't need to come here after all. Lady Sulpicia sends her greetings to you, Carine...and now, I suppose, her thanks."

Carine didn't answer, only bowed her head.

Jonathan's eyes returned to Carine. "How many?" he asked, almost lazily. "All the reports say there was quite an uproar in Seattle...we would have been here sooner if we hadn't been otherwise engaged."

Edythe's eyes narrowed. She was staring at Jonathan, mouth pressed in a tight line.

"Eighteen," answered Carine, "including this one here."

Jonathan's lazy smile froze, and his eyes widened. He looked stunned. His eyes flickered back to the bonfire.

He recovered quickly, but her eyes continued to linger on the pyre, as though re-evaluating its size.

"Eighteen," he muttered at last, almost to himself.

"They were all brand-new," Carine said dismissively, modest again. "All unskilled."

"And what about the creator?" Jonathan asked, his cold eyes once again fastened on Carine's face.

It was Edythe who spoke. "Victor," she said in a low voice. "That was his name. He...has been taken care of as well." Her eyes flickered toward the eastern forest, where the pillar of smoke was still visible in the sky, and Jonathan followed her gaze briefly before his eyes returned to Edythe.

"And, I assume this Victor was in addition to the eighteen?" he said.

"Yes," Edythe answered. "He had only one with him—another young one, though a little older than most of those here, perhaps a year."

"Twenty," Jonathan breathed, his eyes narrowed, his face wary now. "And who dealt with the creator?"

"I did." Edythe's tone was inflectionless, but her eyes seemed to burn, and the corner of her mouth twitched, as though she were fighting not to smile.

"I see." Jonathan turned slowly then, his eyes going to the boy, still curled beside the fire.

"You there!" he snapped, his dull, bored voice suddenly harsh. "Your name."

The newborn glared at him, still trembling, but defiant.

Jonathan's mouth spread into a dazzling smile.

The boy's scream of agony cut through the quiet of the clearing. His body arched stiffly into a distorted, unnatural position, and he shook with convulsions. I could see his red eyes bulge in his head, rolling wildly.

I couldn't look at him. My eyes dropped and my stomach churned and twisted as memories of Edythe under the same torturing gaze filled my mind.

The others all stood motionless beside me, watching, their faces perfectly blank.

The screaming intensified to a shriek, and seemed to go on forever before at last it cut short, and the boy lay gasping on the ground.

"Let's try this again, shall we?" Jonathan said pleasantly. "Name?" His dark eyes burned with a kind of demonic joy, and a smile played around his mouth.

"Brenden," the boy managed, gasping.

He screamed again, writhing, body twisted back unnaturally.

Edythe's face was blank, but I could feel her tension beside me. "He'll tell you anything you want to know," she said quietly. "You don't have to do that."

The air was quiet again as Jonathan's eyes flickered back to Edythe. There was a glitter of humor there. "Oh, I know," he said, showing his perfect white teeth.

Over Jonathan's shoulder, I saw Tacita, whose eyes had never once moved from me since she entered the clearing, glanced for the first time in Jonathan's direction. Maybe I was imagining it, but I thought I saw the hard line of her mouth tighten with dislike. Cato's expression remained perfectly smooth and blank. I couldn't make out the expression of the small figure I thought was Alexa beneath her hood.

"Brenden," Jonathan said sharply, suddenly all business again. "Is that true? Were there twenty?"

The boy was on his side, wheezing, face pressed into the dirt. "I—I don't know," he gasped. He went on quickly, "Yeah, I think so. Twenty sounds right. I think there were more, but a couple of them got in a fight on the way..."

"And was it someone named Victor who created you?"

"I don't know," he gasped again. "We never saw him, and Reilynn never said his name. She said our thoughts weren't safe."

His eyes flickered once to Edythe, just for a fraction of a moment, then returned swiftly to Jonathan, terror in his eyes.

"Hmm," said Jonathan.

Victor's plan had been better and more well thought out than we had given him credit for. We'd assumed the reason that the newborns were wreaking such havoc was because the creator was inept. But the real reason was because he had another newborn looking after them to keep his involvement a secret. It didn't matter if the newborns did attract the attention of the Volturi, because if Victor hadn't followed Edythe to the clearing, it would have been impossible to link him to any of this.

"So this Reilynn was your leader," Jonathan said. "Why did she bring you here?"

Brenden spoke quickly, almost tripping over the words in an effort to get them all out. "Reilynn said we had an enemy. She told us the yellow-eyes would come to destroy us if we didn't destroy them first. This was their territory and once we destroyed them the entire city would be ours. She said we had twice as many as they did, and it would be easy. She gave us the scent of one human, and said his scent would lead us to them—and whoever got to him first could have him."

I felt Edythe's rigid tension beside me. Her eyes were intent on the boy's face.

The boy kept on talking, as if hoping the longer he babbled on, the longer he'd escape the pain.

"Not sure what happened. We split up like Reilynn said, but the other group never met back with us. And then Reilynn left us alone and she didn't come back... Then it was all chaos and everyone being torn apart...and I couldn't fight anymore..." His eyes momentarily returned to Carine.

"I see," Jonathan drawled again. His eyes went to Carine, too, and he looked annoyed. "And you're sure you got _all_ of them?" he said suddenly.

Carine's face was smooth as she replied. "Yes. We split up as well."

"Impressive," Jonathan admitted grudgingly. "Escaping such a large offensive intact. But what caused it, I wonder. And why does it sound like the human was the target?" His eyes returned briefly to me.

"Victor held a grudge against Beau," Edythe answered, voice even, impassive.

I glanced at Edythe. That wasn't exactly the entire truth. But then, maybe it was better not to give them more information than we had to.

Jonathan smiled again, eyes going back to me. "Strange," he drawled. "This one seems to bring out such strong reactions in our kind. I wonder..."

Edythe suddenly stiffened, her face like marble. Her eyes burned as she stared at Jonathan, who was still smiling.

"Would you mind not doing that?" Edythe asked, and though her tone was polite, there was a deadly edge to it.

Jonathan laughed, and it was an oddly pleasant, lilting sound. "Just checking. Seems no harm done."

I shivered slightly, glad for whatever it was that kept the sadistic kid's powers out of my mind.

Jonathan started to turn his eyes away, back toward the boy, but suddenly Tacita spoke. Her voice was harsh, low, breaking from her mouth like a nest of hissing snakes.

"I have a message from Lady Sulpicia," she said, and her dark red eyes were focused like lasers on me. "Your grace period is at an end. Change the boy...or suffer the consequences."

I felt Edythe bristle beside me. However, when she spoke her voice was mild and polite as before. "I'm surprised Sulpicia has the resources to expend on such minor matters in light of the...circumstances which delayed you."

Tacita met Edythe's eyes coolly, without wavering. "I am only passing along Lady Sulpicia's words," she answered. "You would be wise to heed them."

Edythe stared back at Tacita. Their eyes were locked, boring into each other. The air crackled with the silent hostility.

Archie cut in. "The date is set," he said, speaking up for the first time. "We're waiting to time it right, so it doesn't look suspicious. I'm sure Sulpicia wouldn't argue with that."

"Soon," Tacita said, and her eyes were back on me. I shivered under her icy gaze.

Jonathan looked vaguely annoyed—I could tell he preferred to be the one to do the threatening. "Well," he drawled. "As I said, it seems our presence has been rendered unnecessary. I'm sorry now we missed the fight—it sounds like it would have been entertaining."

He turned his eyes on the newborn again, and he looked almost bored. "Tacita. Take care of that, won't you?"

"Wait."

Edythe's eyes were on Carine as she spoke and Jonathan reluctantly turned his eyes back to her.

"He doesn't seem unwilling to learn, now that he knows the rules..."

"Of course," added Carine. "We would be more than happy to take responsibility for Brenden."

Brenden was staring at Edythe with a strange expression. His face must have been so distorted with fear and thirst that I thought I must have been misinterpreting it. Because for a moment, I thought he looked almost resentful.

"I'm afraid that was not among Lady Sulpicia's orders," Jonathan said, his eyes cold. He turned to Tacita again, and jerked his head very slightly in Brenden's direction.

Tacita turned, approaching, her cloak swirling out behind her.

The boy watched her, and his face was blank. With shock or incomprehension of what was about happen, I wasn't sure.

I felt Edythe squeeze my hand beside me, and I knew I should look away, but I couldn't.

The boy finally reacted, cringing away and pulling his hands up over his head protectively. The movement was so human I felt something catch in my throat as I knew what was about to happen.

Tacita was fast—her hand no more than a blur as it flashed forward, like a striking cobra.

I knew how it would happen—they would tear off the head first, incapacitating him, then tear the rest of him apart and set the pieces afire. Just as Edythe had done to Victor. I wanted to close my eyes, to turn away, but I had frozen where I was.

I stared with horror, expecting the worst—but then something strange happened.

Tacita's clawlike fingers were within feet of the boy's face when her hand struck something hard. In midair, her hand snapped sideways, as though glancing off some invisible barrier.

A growing snarl on her face, Tacita lunged again, this time throwing her entire body into the attack, but once again she was repelled, and the rebounded force of her own attack sent her staggering back. She struck again, and again came up against a wall.

I squinted at the space, and I realized I could see something—in the billowing smoke just beside the boy I realized I could make out part of a shape, outlined in the haze.

Cato seemed to be thinking the same thing I was and he approached, using his cloak to blow the thick smoke in the boy's direction. As the smoke drifted toward him, it became visible. A perfectly round sphere, surrounding him, keeping out the smoke—and more besides.

"He has a gift?" Jonathan demanded, spinning on Edythe and his dark red eyes coldly furious. "And you conveniently forgot to mention this, I suppose."

"I didn't know," Edythe answered calmly. "He didn't know himself until just this moment."

The boy's hands had come away from his head, and he was staring down at them in wonder. Then he glanced at Edythe, as though looking to her for answers.

Tacita hissed. However, I thought I saw a spark of interest in her cold eyes.

"Huh," Jonathan drawled, composure restored as he turned his eyes back on the boy. "I wonder..."

The boy let out a scream of sudden agony, and the invisible sphere around him seemed suddenly to shatter into a thousand fragments, as though it were made of glass. His back arched, he writhed.

Jonathan smiled, satisfied, and after a minute longer than really could have been necessary, the boy finally lay still, gasping and whimpering.

"I suppose that answers that question," Jonathan said pleasantly. He glanced back at Tacita. " _Now_ you may take care of it."

However, Tacita stood where she was, unmoving. Her red eyes were focused on the boy, and they narrowed slightly, considering.

Jonathan's eyes turned cold. "Well, Tacita?"

Tacita pulled her gaze from the quivering form.

"I believe...this one ought to be taken back to Lady Sulpicia," she said evenly. "For evaluation. The potential of this power...she may be interested in it."

Jonathan scowled, and he reminded me of a spoiled kid who'd been told he was not going to get the toy he wanted. He said coolly, speaking very low and very fast, "We were sent here to eliminate the law breakers."

Tacita's lips barely moved as she replied, as though trying to shut out the audience. "Lady Sulpicia does not appreciate waste." She added, "And if she evaluates him and finds him wanting, there may be more appropriate judgments which may serve as a warning to others..."

Jonathan stared back at Tacita for a long moment, his face sullen and resentful. Then he turned away to face us again.

Tacita seemed to take that as assent and she rounded on the boy, who was still trembling on the ground.

"Get up!" she snarled harshly.

The boy only continued to tremble, and his eyes turned up to Edythe. They were pleading.

Tacita reached to seize him, but her hand only met the mysterious shield again. She snarled with ferocity.

"I think you were just given an order," Jonathan said softly.

The boy shrieked again, thrashing in the dirt, and this time when he stopped, he allowed Tacita to drag him roughly to his feet.

"You will come with us," Tacita said coldly.

The boy shot another terrified look at Edythe, as he struggled against his captors. "Please," he gasped. "Please, don't let—"

Tacita struck him hard under the chin, and before he could finish, I watched in horror as his head toppled from his shoulders. Next was his arms and legs, torso—until he was no more than pieces on the ground.

"I think he will be easier to carry this way," Tacita said dispassionately.

Jonathan wrinkled his nose, still looking vaguely irritated.

Tacita and Cato quickly gathered up the dismembered parts, stowing them in pouches under their cloaks. The eyes of the head were glassy as Tacita, her expression holding no more emotion than if she'd picked up a soccer ball, took it.

"Nice to see you again, Carine," Jonathan said. "I'll pass along your regards to Lady Sulpicia."

"Please do," said Carine, her face smooth, betraying no emotion.

And with that, the four cloaked figures turned, disappearing into the thick smoke.

* * *

A/N: One more down. Just a few left to go.

So, about that note at the beginning of this chapter. Yes, for all the violence of the Twilight world, Stephanie Meyer actually kills a grand total of about two (slightly) important characters in the Twilight universe, and here I go and save one of them...

I didn't do it out of sentimentality (although I do personally think that it is a good thing when authors care enough about their characters not to always be killing them off just to make the story darker), but rather, for Breaking Dawn I decided I needed a character to have a very particular kind of ability in order to avoid certain complications, and rather than try to introduce a new character randomly, I liked the idea of that character already being introduced here, and being someone we already know from the original source material.

This, of course, goes outside canon, since we know from the illustrated guide for certain that Bree did not have a quantifiable extra talent, but I felt like the ability would fit with Bree/Brenden's history and personality, and again, I liked the idea of his having it, rather than throwing in a completely new character. (I tried to think of ways to write around having a character with this talent at all, but I never quite got my mind settled on a workable approach, so I decided to leave this change as it was and move forward.)

Once all the remaining chapters for Eclipse are up, at some point there will probably be a short story I'll be posting called 'The Third Life of Brenden Tanner,' which will go over Brenden's perspective on this scene, and a little after. I wrote the scene to get inside his head here so I knew how I wanted this scene to play out, and I figure since I wrote it anyway, I might as well put it up.

That's it for now—thanks for reading and let me know what you thought if you get a chance. See you next time!

Posted 4/2/18


	26. Paths

A/N: Hey there! I'd had it in mind to speed things up on posting the final few chapters for awhile, especially since the previous few ended up getting delayed for various reasons. So here we are, a bit early.

Hope you enjoy, and see you at the end! :J

* * *

Chapter 25: Paths

I was sitting in my truck, behind the wheel. I wasn't sure I should be driving right now. My vision swam and my head felt like it was being squeezed like a vice.

The crisis was supposed to be over now. But for me, it felt like it was just beginning.

Archie was sitting in the passenger's seat beside me. He was quiet as I fought to get a handle on myself.

It had been hours before I was finally allowed in to see for myself that Jules was really still alive. After they had gotten Carine down there, along with Edythe, supposedly back from their pretend hiking trip, Charlie had been at the Black house for hours. And of course, Archie and I were supposed to be down in Olympia, oblivious to the world, munching burgers and seeing a movie.

When Charlie had finally left, Edythe and I had stayed for a while, and I'd been hoping to be there when Jules finally regained consciousness. But then Archie was calling, insisting that we needed to keep up our facade, that I needed to go home so I could assuage my dad's likely growing suspicions...

Much as I had wanted to argue, I knew he was right, and I left, with Edythe promising to call me if Jules woke up while I was away—though the extra morphine Carine had put in her system made that unlikely, at least for a while. Some part of me felt terrible for the role I was putting Edythe in—comforting me, reassuring me over someone she couldn't stand, who she had always known even more than I did was the biggest threat to her happiness. The biggest threat to things ending up how I had professed over and over I wanted them to be.

Unfortunately, I had never been good at lying or hiding how I felt about things, particularly when I was in full-on panic mode. The horror of Jules's injuries, and the whispering doubt she might not make it through, in spite of Carine and Edythe's best efforts, was crippling beyond my control.

I sat in the truck, trying again to force myself to go over the story we had come up with and I had memorized, but as everything that had happened kept going through my head again and again, it kept getting crowded out.

It was Archie who finally broke the silence. "Long day," he commented.

I let out a sigh. "Yeah," I agreed. "Long day."

"Anything you want to talk about?" he asked. "Might clear your head a bit, before you have to talk to Charlie."

I opened my mouth automatically to say no, I was fine—then I sighed deeply, and said instead, "I guess I'll be like that—that kid in the clearing."

Archie glanced at me. He shrugged. "Something like that. We were all a bit wild in the beginning. It passes, though. Just takes a few years. We'll keep you out of trouble, and you know I'll see it if you're about to break the rules." He tapped his temple.

I didn't answer. I knew they would do their best, and I would just have to trust that, but I also knew that one crazy vampire could do a lot of damage in a few years. Still, as worried as that had had me all this time, that wasn't the biggest concern on my mind.

But I didn't know how to say it, or if it was even right to put it into words, so I heard myself saying instead, "It's weird, isn't it? I mean, how...you know...Edythe's power doesn't work on me. Or Jonathan's, or Sulpicia's...but yours does. You can see my future."

Archie gazed out the front windshield, considering. "And Jess's works on you too," he reminded me. "Yeah, I've thought about that. What the difference is. And you know what? I think it's got to do with the physical versus the mental. Jess's power affects the body physically, messes with the hormone levels and stuff to calm you down or get you excited. Me, I just see outcomes of decisions, not the reasons behind them. See? I think that's it. It's your mind that's protected. Jonathan only creates an illusion of pain, he doesn't hurt you physically. Inside your head, you're safe."

I nodded slowly.

Archie's eyes were on me again. "What else?" he asked shrewdly. "What did you really want to ask me?"

I glanced away. "Can't you see it?" I muttered.

He shook his head. "Not until you decide to say it."

I hesitated a moment longer, then sighed once again.

Archie scanned the immediate future, and he understood the question. "Yeah," he said easily. "I do. I still see you becoming one of us. Don't you know that?"

I nodded slowly, letting out a breath. "Just wanted to be sure."

He eyed me. "I'm only as sure as you are. If you changed your mind, the future I saw would change, too. Or in this case...disappear."

We were both quiet for a long moment.

"I don't get how I got in this situation," I said suddenly.

Archie blinked.

"I mean," I continued, voice rising, "I'm such a jerk, I don't even know what they've been fighting over. They could _both_ do so much better."

Archie's eyebrows rose slightly. "Didn't you know?" he said. "The ladies love jerks. Nice guys finish last and all that."

I turned to glare at him ferociously.

"Okay, okay," he relented. "Not funny. Look, I know you feel bad—but you can't exactly help how you feel, and in fairness, I think you have been trying to do the right thing all this time. It's just, you've got two different directions you could go down, and they're both good places to go. But to have one, you have to give up the other one. It's rough. Since I see visions and I always knew Jess was my future, I never had to deal with anything like that. But I get how hard it has to be."

I shook my head, mouth twisting. He was trying to make me feel better, and I wasn't going to let him. I didn't deserve it.

There wasn't a choice to be made, not really. I was going to completely crush someone's heart—but the fact it was so hard, so hard to let go, beyond the pain I would be causing her, I knew I was even now still betraying the person I had chosen. I was a jerk, on both ends.

Without another word, I turned the key in the ignition, and the engine roared to life. Archie, giving me one last concerned look, was gone by the time I took off the emergency break and put my hand on the gearshift.

I took one last, deep breath, and started off.

At home, Charlie was waiting for me—anxious and suspicious, as Archie had warned me he would be.

"How was the trip?" he asked. He was standing in the kitchen, leaning against the counter as though that's where he'd been all along.

"Okay," I said, without much enthusiasm. "Long. We just got back." I didn't have to fake the dull edge of exhaustion in my voice.

Charlie hesitated. "Did you...hear about Julie?"

I didn't meet his gaze, and I sighed. "Yeah... The rest of the Cullens beat us home and told us what happened, and where Edythe and Carine were. Soon as I make dinner, I'm going to head down there, too."

Charlie nodded, and his eyes followed me as I headed to the fridge and started pulling things out. "I hope this makes you realize just how dangerous those motorcycles are. Right leg and arm both broken—entire right side of her pretty messed up. A lot of people don't walk away from accidents that bad. Luckily Carine said Julie ought to make a full recovery, but she'll probably be on crutches for the next few months. An active girl like her, she'll probably hate that."

I nodded absently as I went over to the cupboards next, pulling out a couple more things and setting them on the counter.

Charlie must have noticed how gloomy I looked, because he said bracingly, "Well, I wouldn't worry about her too much. She seemed in plenty high spirits when I left. I had no idea she had such a foul mouth. Does she talk like that around you?"

My hand froze in the cupboard, and I slowly turned around. "She...was awake when you saw her?"

"Oh yeah," he said. "Wide awake. Joking around, actually."

"Joking?" I said, almost faintly.

Charlie shrugged. "In between the nonstop profanity, she told me, 'Bet you're glad now he chose her after all, she's a better influence.' I've got to hand it to Bonnie, her girl is one of a kind. Nothing gets her down."

I'd turned back to the cupboard so Charlie wouldn't see my expression.

"Course, she does have a point," he mused. "When it comes to safety, Edythe Cullen _is_ a much better influence. She's very mature for her age. The way she was helping Carine...she already knows more about Carine's business than you'd think, and she's meticulous about the details. Maybe she should consider taking after her mother and go into medicine."

I thought of Jules as a giant wolf, not hesitating even for a moment to put herself in danger to save Lee. And I heard myself saying quietly, "Jules can be mature. I'm sure the accident wasn't her fault."

Charlie paused briefly, giving me a slightly odd look. After a moment, his gaze wandered away from me, and he said musingly, "Strange day today. Bonnie was nervous and distracted all morning. Almost like she knew something bad might happen to Julie."

He went on thoughtfully, "And then, remember earlier this year, when we had so much trouble with those giant wolves? Well, we started hearing a bunch of wolf calls in the woods. So many, and some sounded so loud they could have been right there in the village. We were supposed to be watching the pre-game talks, but then as soon as she heard the wolves, Bonnie left and went to spend the rest of the time on the phone, chatting with friends. I think she called Saul, and Elliot, and Quilla, your friend Quil's grandmother. Real casual conversation, it was the strangest thing."

He shook his head in bewilderment at the memory, then continued, "The wolf calls stopped for a while—and then it suddenly started up again, this time sounding like it was just outside the house. Different than a normal howl, the animal sounded like it was in pain. I had to shout to Bonnie to be heard, I asked if she got animals this close to the house all the time, and if she'd set some traps. Then almost as soon as it stopped, they were hauling Julie in, and all that was kind of pushed from my mind. Then they called Carine..."

Charlie paused again. "Well, at least a little good's come from all this. Seems like Bonnie and the others are over their superstitions about the Cullens. Bonnie seemed pretty grateful when Carine showed up. I thought we ought to get Julie over to the hospital, but Bonnie wanted to keep her at home and Carine agreed. Going to be a long stretch of house calls... Nice of her to agree to that."

He looked down, hesitant. "And..." he muttered. At last, he sighed. "Okay, I'll admit it, I was pretty impressed with Edythe, and not just how she was helping Carine. I know she's had some bad blood with Julie the last few months, mainly over you—but she seemed about as anxious for her as you would have been if you'd been there."

He paused again. "Look, Beau, what I'm trying to say is—I know I've been a bit stubborn the last few months where Edythe's concerned, but I'm willing to admit when I've turned out to be wrong. If she's your choice...you've picked a good one."

I nodded slowly, not turning around. "Thanks, Dad," I whispered, but my voice sounded dull, robotic. A few months ago, I would have been happy to hear him say something like this—to hear him finally coming around to the fact Edythe and I were going to be together, to begin to see her beyond the events of last fall, of which he didn't know the full story.

However, I was still distracted. The scene I'd arrived to when Charlie had left kept playing through my mind. Jules, lying in the bed, her russet skin chalky pale and drawn, eyes closed. Looking on the verge of death.

Looking into her unconscious face, remembering everything we'd done together, all the jokes and laughter, and even the tense, hard times, too—it was painful. I knew how I felt about her, even though the feeling was a betrayal of someone else. I couldn't seem to stop it...or the treacherous part of me that, for the first time, felt the sacrifice of giving up being human may be almost too much to bear.

I set Charlie's dinner on the table next to his elbow and immediately headed for the door.

"Don't worry, Beau," Charlie called after me. "Really. She'll be fine."

Maybe that was true, I thought as I headed quickly out the door to my truck. Maybe she would be fine—as far as the broken bones were concerned. But what about the part of her I was about to break? The one part of a wolf that didn't heal so easily.

I climbed into the cab, and inserted the key into the ignition.

I saw the figure sitting in the passenger's seat out of the corner of my eye. Perfectly still.

I didn't flinch at the suddenness—somehow, I wasn't surprised.

Edythe turned to look at me in the red evening light.

"Carine finished treating her, for now," she said softly. "The morphine should have worn off some—I wouldn't be surprised if she's already awake. I...decided to come see how you were."

I didn't reply. I didn't know what to say. I'd been doing everything wrong lately. The panic I felt over what had happened to Jules, the need to see her awake and really okay, was beyond that of concern for a friend, even a best friend. Edythe knew that—and she probably knew that, even now, I could feel my heart trying to pull itself in two.

"Are you going down to La Push?" she asked gently.

I hesitated, remembering how, not so long ago, we had been sitting in my truck like this, and Edythe had stopped me from going to that very place.

"You were right," I said in a low, hollow voice. "I shouldn't have gone back. I should have just...left well enough alone."

Edythe tilted her head slightly, and I knew she knew what I was thinking of. "You think so?" she asked after a moment. "Because I'm not so sure."

I blinked, and I couldn't stop my eyes returning to her face, confused.

"I left you once," she murmured. "It was...is...the greatest regret of my life. In some ways, this was not so different."

I saw the comparison she was drawing, and I quickly shook my head. "It _was_ different. There was nothing holding us back from being together, besides the fact that—that you just convinced yourself you weren't good for me. I'm not ever going to be able to give her anything. If I hadn't just kept going, then—then maybe she would be okay. Maybe she would have moved on by now."

"You were trying to do the right thing by her, as her friend," Edythe murmured. "You can hardly be faulted for that. If you had tried to make the break back then as opposed to now—I think it would have come out a mess no matter what. The notion that a complete rejection, cold and cruel, constitutes a clean break—that is merely a romantic fantasy, as I learned only too clearly. Kindness is cleaner than cruelty, I think—even if it's still a mess. If anyone is to blame for all of this, it's me. I left a painful void in your life, with my misguided attempt to save you from myself. She filled that void."

I shook my head. As always, Edythe tried to take the blame for all my mistakes, my weakness, on herself. Stupid, that's what it was.

And yet, maybe she was right about one thing—even looking back over everything that had happened, I still wasn't entirely sure what the right thing to do would have been. What would have caused Jules, and Edythe too, the least amount of pain. But maybe it was inevitable—maybe I was always going to hurt them both no matter what.

I hesitated, head bowed over the steering wheel. I didn't know what to say, and I heard myself mutter into the silence, "Are you...coming with me?"

Edythe regarded me for a moment. "No," she said finally, voice gentle. "I think you need a chance to speak with her alone."

My eyes didn't move from where they were fixed on the dashboard, without really seeing it. At last, I drew a rattling breath and nodded once. She was right. This was a conversation I had to have with Jules that couldn't be put off.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly. "I'm sorry for everything I've put you through. I'm going to try to...make it right. If I can."

I felt something cool against my wrist, and I turned to see Edythe's hand, touching my skin. She was gazing up into my face, her own beautiful features intense with earnestness.

"Beau," she said softly, "I know just how stubborn you are. But, when you go there, I want you to do something for me."

I reached out a hand automatically to take hers, then hesitated—I still felt guilty even touching her, after betraying her as I had. And—some part of my heart still betraying her, even now.

As I paused in my momentary indecision, Edythe gazed up at me, still touching my wrist.

"When you go to see her, think about it again," she said. "You can still choose her, Beau. You have only just discovered these feelings—you said your feelings for me are stronger, and I believe that, but those feelings have had time to grow. You don't know how strong your feelings for her could become, if only you let them. There is still time to think, consider. She could give you so much that I couldn't."

I gazed back at her a moment longer. And then, I took her hand in mine. "You...really love me," I marveled.

She smiled. "More than you can possibly imagine. I really, truly feel—so long as you are happy, I will be happy, too."

I shook my head. She really did love me. More than I would ever, could ever, deserve.

I held her hand a moment longer—and then I sighed. "I better go before it gets too late."

She nodded. "Of course." She hesitated, then briefly leaned across the seat between us, and I felt her sweet breath against my ear. "Don't be stubborn," she breathed. "Consider, really consider. Find the path with the least regrets, and whatever you decide, I will be satisfied. I love you, Beau."

I blinked, dazed for a moment—but as I opened my mouth to respond, to tell her my choice one more time, she was already gone.

I blinked again, then shook my head. I turned the key, yet even the growling roar of the old engine didn't quite fill the sudden silence.

* * *

When I arrived at La Push, of course Carine's black Mercedes was no longer in front of the house. I already knew that—yet somehow I still felt its absence.

I hadn't even completely finished climbing out when I heard a call from within.

"Come in, Beau."

I recognized Bonnie, who of course had probably picked up on the distinctive roar of my truck. I went ahead and let myself in, trying to be quiet in case Jules was still asleep.

"Hey, Bonnie," I said, keeping my voice down. "Is she awake yet?"

"She woke up about an hour ago, just before the doctor left," Bonnie said. "I think she's been waiting for you."

My eyes dropped immediately to the ground. I nodded once, then turned and headed automatically in the direction of her room.

At the door, I hesitated to knock, then instead pushed the door in a few inches to see if she might have gone back to sleep. Some part of me almost hoped that she had—I could use a few more minutes to gather my thoughts. Or a few hours.

However, Jules was, as Bonnie has said, waiting for me. She was sitting partially up, propped against some pillows, her features alert as she watched me silently. The haggard look from earlier was gone, but she wasn't smiling. Her face was blank, her dark eyes holding no emotion.

She knew.

My eyes dropped from hers as I wordlessly slipped inside the room, closing the door behind me. Someone had thrown a quilt over her, for which I was relieved—I didn't want to see just how bad the damage was. Bad enough that almost half her body had been crushed, but when Carine had arrived to treat her, the healing process had already begun, and many of the bones had already set wrong, forcing Carine to re-break many of the fractures. I knew underneath the blankets, Jules was covered with braces.

I stood there by the door for a moment, awkward, until at last I said in a low voice that grated against my throat, "Hey."

Jules didn't answer at first, just carefully studied my face. At last, her face twisted into a bitter, mocking smile.

"Yeah, I sort of figured it might be like that." She sighed. "What a day. I miss the best fight, let _Sarah_ get all the glory, and then Lee's being a moron and I end up being the idiot who has to play the hero and save him. Now this." She waved vaguely in my direction with her good arm. "There's the icing on the cake."

"How...are you doing?" I said quietly. It was a beyond stupid question, but I couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Kind of stoned actually," she said, with a bit of a humorless laugh. "I think the good doctor's been using me as a kind of experiment, so she might have overdone it on the medication."

"It doesn't hurt?" I said slowly, tentatively.

She laughed again, and it sounded hollow. "My injuries don't hurt if that's what you're asking."

My eyes dropped again. I couldn't look at her. I felt like something in my chest was searing me, breaking apart—I wouldn't have expected knowing how I really felt would make it this hard. Edythe's voice in my ear drifted up from the back of my mind. _Don't be stubborn._

Edythe couldn't read my mind. So she didn't know what thoughts were going through my head, now that I'd finally found out the truth. She was perceptive enough to see the intense pain—the pain of seeing Jules hurt, and how, in order to do this, I would have to rip out a part of myself. I hated that Edythe had to see that, but maybe it was for the best—it wouldn't have been right to hide any part of myself from her, even the parts that I knew caused her pain, because I didn't want to lie or keep her in the dark.

However, that was where the right interpretation of my thoughts and feelings ended. She could see how much I cared about Jules, loved her even—and she thought that my heart was really, truly divided, that I still needed to consider, to make up my mind. Perhaps she even thought that, deep down, Jules was the one I really loved, and I was only continuing to cling to a fading love for her out of some notion of loyalty or stubborn desire to stick to the path I'd already chosen.

But she was wrong. I still loved Edythe, the same way I had those early days when we had first talked of vampires in Port Angeles, when I had gone with her to the meadow, when she had gone to the Volturi and then flown back with me. Things had been coming between us the last few months, but we had worked through them, and even now as I knew the coming hardships, I was set to endure them. Not for the sake of obligation, but because I simply couldn't _be_ without her.

There were two paths set before me, and no matter which one I chose, there would be pain and regrets left behind. Intense pain and regrets, from me, and the one who stood on the darkened path. After all the pain I had caused, the only thing I could do for both the people I cared about was to be honest with myself. To make the choice with clear eyes, not letting myself get distracted by anything except what I really felt. And deep down, I had always known my choice was already made before I'd even made it.

Jules gazed back into my face, and seemed to read the thoughts behind it. However, the bitter humor seemed to leave her features, and her smile was surprisingly understanding.

"Was she mean to you?" she asked.

I blinked. "What?"

She tried to shrug, but could only move one shoulder. "You know...after I left. She say anything really horrible? I knew she wouldn't _really_ hurt you, but I meant to be there, so she'd have someone besides you to take it out on. I was worried she might not let you come here."

I understood what she meant, and I quickly shook my head. "No, nothing like that. You wouldn't believe it—she wasn't mad at all. Even a little. She was so...unbelievably..." I trailed off, as I remembered everything she had said and done. And I was hit with just how incredible she really was all over again. I finally found my voice enough to say, "Kind. Understanding."

Jules could clearly hear the awe in my tone. Instead of looking relieved, she wrinkled her nose and, if anything, she seemed disappointed. "Figures. She's good, I'll give her that."

I frowned at her uncertainly. "What do you mean?"

She settled back a bit more against the pillows. "Well, I guess it doesn't matter now. It's over anyway. But, I _was_ kind of banking on her reaction. Revealing the monster within, all that. But I guess she was two steps ahead of me again. She's just better at this game than I am."

My mouth pursed slightly. "She's not playing any games, Jules," I said quietly.

Jules snorted. "Sure she is. She's just good enough you can't see it. She's not as perfect as you think she is, Beau—when are you going to realize that?"

I could feel my ears turning red as my irritation rose. "And I guess you were really going to go out and kill yourself if I didn't play _your_ games."

Then I hesitated, eyes dropping to the ground. I was sorry to have played that card—I'd sworn to myself I wasn't going to bring that up.

However, Jules smiled a little, some of her frustration dispelled, and she was unabashed. "Hey, I _might_ have died if I'd gone running into battle feeling all depressed. And it did kind of occur to me that might be the best outcome for you in terms of future peace of mind—but in the longterm, if the alternative was giving you up to a bloodsucker, it seemed better to at least _try_."

I sighed. "Emotional manipulation?"

She smiled. "Maybe a bit. Hey, if I mean it when I say I'm going to fight, I have to use all the tricks I can, right?"

I looked away again. She acted as though she had given up already—but the way she was talking, it sounded like she wasn't done quite yet. And that was going to make this all the harder.

"Listen, Jules..." I started.

Before I could finish, Jules cut across me, saying, "I won't apologize for what I did, because I'm not sorry. I think I'd do it again if I had the choice. Because it finally made you realize the truth."

I hesitated, then shook my head. "Do you really think that's better?" I said in a low voice.

"Yeah, I do," she answered without hesitation. "I mean, aren't you glad to know how you feel? Even a little? It has to be better to find out now, when you still have a choice, than later, when you're a married vampire."

I shook my head again. She hadn't understood what I meant. "I mean...for you...knowing how _I_ feel when it doesn't make a difference. Isn't it harder? Isn't a disappointed hope worse than no hope at all?"

Jules didn't give me a glib answer. She sat there for a long moment, thinking seriously. At last she said slowly, "No, it's better to know you know the truth. If you'd never known...well, I would have always wondered, wouldn't I? Now I know. I did everything I could."

She drew in a shallow, unsteady breath, then leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

Seeing her lying there, before I knew what I was doing I had crossed the room. Afraid I might jostle the bed if I sat on it, for a minute I just stood there uselessly, staring down at her. I stretched out a hand to touch her good arm, then hesitated. All the ways I might have comforted her before, before I knew—they seemed like they'd only make things worse now.

Jules opened her eyes and forced a smile. "You look like a dork. Come on, just sit down." She patted the empty place on the small bed beside her.

I did. I didn't know what else to do.

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees, head bowed.

"I always knew it was kind of a long shot," she said with a sigh. "I fought as hard as I could, and I won at least a little. Don't feel bad, it's not your fault."

An odd sound escaped me, half between a laugh and a frustrated grunt of disbelief. "Right," I muttered sarcastically. "Not my fault at all. Whose else would it be?"

She grinned, half rolling her head toward me. "You want me to rake you over the coals instead?"

"Would you?" I said, glancing at her, unable to keep the sudden eagerness from my voice. I swiveled slightly, so I was facing her.

She laughed. "You're such a weird guy sometimes, Beau."

She stared at me, and as she did, she drew in her brows accusingly. "You're a pretty terrible guy, too. If you were any man at all, you should have told me to go die if that's what I wanted. You're killing me, Beau. You keep jerking me around."

She was still half grinning as she spoke, so my throat shouldn't have closed like it did. I felt something burning in my eyes.

"I mean," she continued, "you didn't love me enough to even _suggest_ polygamy."

I couldn't help it and I choked out a laugh, even as I felt an unwanted tear spill from one eye, and slide down my face. I quickly wiped it away, but Jules saw it.

Before I knew what she was doing, she had thrown her good arm around my shoulder, in a strange kind of bro hug. "It's going to be okay, Beau," she said, suddenly serious again.

I shook my head slowly, and my voice was low and hoarse as I answered. "What makes you think that?"

She leaned her head against mine lightly. "I've decided," she said. "I'm going to give in. I'm going to leave you alone and let you make your choice."

I shook my head slightly. "Latest strategy?" I asked in a mutter.

Jules laughed softly. "No. I can't use her techniques anyway. I'm just calling it quits. Throwing in the towel. I'll just be your friend from now on, and that's it—just like I was in the beginning."

I was silent for a long moment. I didn't think that could possibly work, when we both knew how we felt. However, all I said was, "What brought this on?"

Jules smiled slightly, then sighed. "Do you know that story in the Bible?" she asked. "I mean the one about the king and the two women fighting over the baby."

I nodded slowly. "King Solomon."

"Yeah. And he said the solution was to cut the kid in half...but it was really only a test. To see who loved the kid enough to give him up to save him."

Her dark eyes stared straight ahead, at one of her posters of a racing car on the wall, though I doubted really seeing it.

"I'm...tired of hurting you, Beau," she said quietly. "I'm tired of splitting you in half. Maybe if things had gone the other way, she would have really given you up too, who knows—but seeing as how things are, it's going to have to be me. I need to let you be the person you want to be. I can't be a constant source of potential dishonor."

She smiled a little. "You're a lot like Sam, you know. I've been inside her head, so I know how you feel right now, and I don't want you to have to feel like that anymore."

We were quiet for several minutes. Maybe she was waiting for me to say something. Or maybe she was absorbing this last moment, steeling her resolve.

At last she said, "Can I...tell you one more thing? One more truth, never hiding things, before we lock it away and throw away the key." She sighed. "The worst part of all this... Then I promise I'll let it all go. Everything."

I hesitated. "If it will help," I said quietly at last.

"I think the worst part," she said slowly, haltingly, "is knowing what would have been. If things had been different."

She went on, "You know I would have been the natural path your life would have taken. If there were no monsters, no magic...it would have been me."

I could have tried to deny it, but I knew deep down she was right. I could see the potential future almost as clearly as she could. The future of a world without the supernatural—a world where Edythe had died of influenza in 1918 and it was Jules I met first at La Push, that day at the beach. We would have been together, we would have been happy.

Two paths of the future—my choice was going to make one go dark, and I had already made my choice. A choice as inevitable as the rising and falling of the sun. If it was only my own regret I had to live with, I could endure that, but this hurting Jules—it was almost too much to bear.

"You know," she murmured. "Sometimes I've had this thought... It's almost like she's some kind of drug for you. Like you couldn't stay away from her even if someday you wanted to." Her voice held no judgment, only understanding. She sighed. "I think I get that now. But I would have been healthier for you. Not a drug. More like the air, the sun. Like you are for me."

I smiled a little wistfully. "This is going to sound corny, but I used to kind of think of you that way. Kind of like the sun, chasing away the clouds." Then I hesitated, wondering if I really should have said that.

But Jules only smiled a bit. She leaned a little more into my shoulder, and chuckled ruefully. "Too bad I've been eclipsed."

We stayed like that a minute. Quiet, but for the beating of our hearts.

"I know you have to go," she said quietly. "But before you do—tell me the worst part for you."

I shook my head. "I think maybe that wouldn't be a good idea."

"Please," she murmured. "Let's be honest, for this one last hour at least."

I hesitated. "I think it would just make things worse."

Jules smiled a little. "You should know me better than that by now. I'd rather know a hard truth any day than be left wondering, in suspense."

I sighed. After everything I had put her through—I guess it made sense if, if she was asking for honesty, for me to give it to her. "I guess the worst part...it's like there's two people inside me. There's one that knows how things are going to be, which way I've decided. But even so, there's also another one that just keep pulling at me, that wants the future you see—I think maybe as much as you do. And that part of me..." I hesitated.

"That part of you makes you feel like you're betraying us both," Jules concluded—as always, knowing my thoughts almost before I did. "You would cut that part out, if you could."

I couldn't look at her. I didn't know what the right thing to say or do was. I wish I hadn't said anything.

She sighed. "I get it. Like I said, she's a drug for you. I don't think you could ever be without her, even if you tried. There's a half of you that loves me—but you hate that side of yourself, because he makes you feel like you're betraying her. Maybe I already knew—if I made you see the truth, I knew that was how things would turn out."

I felt something inside me twist painfully. "I don't—" I blurted. Then paused, not sure exactly how to put it into words.

She looked at me, giving me her full attention, her expression calm, but bleak, resigned.

I looked down, feeling the familiar red splotches creeping up my neck. "I don't...hate him. I mean, the person I am when I'm with you. Not really. I just hate—feeling like I'm betraying people I care about. You and Edythe both."

We were both silent for a long moment. She was gazing at me with an expression I couldn't seem to interpret. I wondered again if I should have really said that—if it just made things worse, knowing just how divided in half those two people inside me still were even at this moment, when I had already decided.

Edythe's kind voice rose in my thoughts again. _Don't be stubborn._

But her words had the opposite effect from what she intended. As I thought of her, sitting across from me in the cab, looking at me with those golden eyes full of gentleness and understanding I didn't deserve, I felt the resolve that was already there strengthen.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly, looking away. "I shouldn't—I shouldn't have said that. I'm just making this harder."

Jules shook her head. "No, I needed to hear that. I knew that already, I just needed to hear it said out loud. Don't worry about sending me the wrong message or something—I get it. I completely get it. I've _always_ gotten it, Beau, even when I've acted like I don't. I knew how things stood between us—I'm glad you care, even if it doesn't change anything."

The room was silent again for a long moment. Jules had closed her eyes, and I saw her draw in a deep breath, and slowly let it out again.

At last, she opened her eyes. "Okay," she said. "Okay. That's all, then. I'm letting go now. It's over."

She had been leaning her head against mine, but now she pulled away. She pulled back the arm that had been around my neck, and let it fall to the bed between us.

I wasn't sure if this was my cue to go. I opened my mouth to ask, but before I could, she suddenly said in a brighter tone, "So. Getting married, huh?"

I blinked at this sudden change of direction. Maybe it would be better to sit and talk a bit more—to end on a lighter note, more like old times, so we could both remember that, rather than the pain of breaking. But this was a topic that didn't seem fair on any level.

"We don't have to talk about that," I said quickly.

Jules grinned. "You know that saying? What is it...'The elephant in the room'? You know that's not me. If there's a big, ugly elephant at the front of the room, I'm going to stare right at it and point and shout, _'There's a friggin' elephant over there!'"_

I couldn't help but smile back. Funny how she could make me laugh, even when I had just torn her heart out.

"Yeah," I said, sighing. "I don't know exactly when it's going to be. But soon."

"How do you feel about it?" she asked.

Something about her open, unfettered curiosity made me respond honestly, without hesitation. "I guess I don't mind the idea of being married. Actually, I like it. Being bound once and for all... It's just the wedding itself I'm having trouble getting past."

"Think you'll trip walking down the aisle?" she said, half grinning again.

"That's a given," I answered. "I'll only consider it bad if I take the wedding cake and any of the audience with me."

"So you're going to do a traditional wedding then?" she asked. "Not slipping off to Vegas?"

I paused, then shook my head. "Much as I think that would be easier in the short-term, and Edythe said she was willing to go along with whatever I wanted...I think traditional is the way to go. I wouldn't be much of a man if I let my fiancee give me what I want for her wedding, right? The wedding's the bride's day, you know."

Jules shook her head. "And how many man points are you going to try to take for that bit of wisdom?"

I shrugged. "Whatever you think is fair."

Silence, for a minute. Then Jules whispered, "Before or after?"

Somehow, I knew what she meant. "After," I said quietly.

She nodded, and I could feel the relief as she slumped slightly.

"Scared much?" she asked softly.

I didn't speak, only nodded.

"Of what?"

I shrugged. I tried to keep my voice light, but I didn't hold back. "Lots of things. It's supposed to hurt a lot. Then there's Charlie, and my mom...saying goodbye..."

I hesitated. When I spoke again, my voice was barely above a whisper. "And...I'm afraid of the monster I'll be. I know the others will try to keep me from hurting anyone, but that's the part that scares me the most. That I won't be _me—_ a monster."

We were both silent, and I realized how heavy the atmosphere was. I shook my head and forced a smile. "You know, I might be such a menace the pack will have to take me out."

Jules looked uncharacteristically serious. "I wouldn't let them."

"You would if I was hurting people," I said. "Hurting one of your sisters."

Jules was silent for a moment, then she stifled a groan. "Ugh, this is so freaking _hard_."

"I know," I said with a sigh. Then I added, "But it's only supposed to last a few years. The wild, crazy side, I mean. If I work hard...if the others help me...I should be a real Cullen then. In control, responsible."

Jules smiled a little. "I guess if there were going to be any responsible bloodsuckers out there, it would be you."

She paused, then her brow furrowed and her mouth turned down again. "But...besides all that...isn't the process itself pretty risky? I mean, in all the stories it seems like even when they're trying to hold back, a lot of the time they lose control...people die..." She shivered.

I shook my head. "No, I'm not afraid of that. Because Edythe is going to be the one to do it, and I trust her. She would never hurt me."

Jules nodded slowly. "She better hopes she doesn't," she muttered darkly. "I'll bet she'd want to die again...and I'd be only too glad to be the one to help her."

Her words sent a chill down my spine, and I looked away. I opened my mouth to make her promise she would do no such thing—but then I closed it again. Edythe wouldn't hurt me, so there was no point discussing it further.

"Well," I said, trying to sound more cheerful than I felt. "You know, eventually another guy's bound to come along. Maybe someone you can talk cars with. I'll probably end up the jealous one, what do you think?"

Jules snorted. "Don't hold your breath."

"What about Lee?" I said. "You have a lot in common."

"You mean we're both losers of really soap-opera-crazy love triangles?" she asked, rolling her eyes.

"Actually, I was thinking more of the wolf thing," I muttered.

Jules snorted again and shook her head. "Thanks, but I think I'd rather take the die-alone-in-a-blaze-of-glory route. I think Lee would, too. And I think you know more about cars than Lee does, which is saying something."

It was quiet again, for a moment. For just a second, things had seemed almost back to normal—the both of us just talking, having fun, saying whatever came into ours heads even if it was a bit reckless, or irresponsible.

And I knew that meant it was time to go. Before that slightly smaller half of myself could try to make me stay, keep on making excuses as though he were the only part of me that existed.

I slowly got up from the bed, hearing it creak as the weight shifted.

Jules watched me. "I'll see you later, then," she said. "Come back and visit. And you can bring your girlfriend next time, so she doesn't think we're getting up to anything too dangerous."

I smiled a bit. "I will." Against my better judgment, I let my eyes fall back on the empty spot I had left on the bed. I felt a burning, searing pain in my chest, an ache. Like there was that part of myself still sitting there, in that same place, which had torn away from the rest, leaving a bleeding hole.

I turned for the door. However, I stopped and turned back a second time. "Make sure you follow all of Carine's instructions. You'll get better faster."

"Sure, sure," she said dismissively, waving a hand.

"And be careful when you're out fighting vampires again. Don't be so heroic. You're not invincible, you know."

Jules snorted. "You're such a worrier. You'd make someone a good mom."

I was to the door now, and I lingered there a moment, looking back at her. I knew what I wanted to say, but I couldn't say it. It wasn't right to say it.

So all I said was, softly, "Take care of yourself, Jules."

And then I slipped through the door, feeling her dark eyes follow me out, with an unfathomable expression in their familiar depths.

* * *

A/N: And another chapter down. Almost there, guys...!

I did quite a bit of rewriting on this chapter, there were some parts that were a bit too similar to the original I wanted to change up a little. Still, I think you'll notice I did end up leaving it mostly the same in essence—even though it may be messy and Beau feels terrible for feeling as he does, like Bella, he does the best he can in carrying through in the decision he's made, which he feels is for the best. I don't think he can help it if the sacrifice isn't easy for him to make.

Thanks for reading, if you have a moment, let me know what you thought, and see you next time! C:

Posted 4/16/18


	27. Eternity

A/N: Hey there. Surprise!

Since I lagged so much on several of the last few chapters, and because this turned out to be something of a short chapter, I decided to go ahead and put it up as a kind of combo with chapter 25. Thanks so much for your continued patience with me, I appreciate it. (And I also appreciate all those of you who've enjoyed this enough to actually be impatient about it, thank you!)

Hope you enjoy, and see you at the end! C:

* * *

Chapter 26: Eternity

I drove down the long, winding road from La Push. I stared straight ahead, not really seeing the road in front of me, or the dark forest on either side. I didn't see anything at all.

It wasn't until the truck drifted from the road to the rough gravel shoulder beside it that I realized I was in no shape to drive. So I pulled off and set the truck into park, shutting off the engine.

The sudden, all-consuming silence came down on me, like a smothering blanket. I bent slowly over the steering wheel, and I realized I was blinking rapidly. I closed my eyes, trying to force the churning emotions back down, but they wouldn't go. I felt my eyes burning behind my lids, my throat tight.

The decision was made. I didn't regret it; I knew I'd made the right choice, the only choice. Yet—still I could see the one darkened path ahead, and it was littered with inevitable regrets. I couldn't control it, couldn't stop it.

I opened my eyes again, but my vision was blurred—so I didn't notice her right away.

My burning eyes finally shifted slightly, and I saw a figure sitting in the passenger's seat beside me, perfectly still.

Again, I felt that same flicker of déjà vu, and I went back to that day that felt like years ago when I had run out to my truck to go to La Push, only to find Edythe had sabotaged my truck.

I looked away, quickly wiping my eyes. But my throat was still too tight to speak.

I felt Edythe's cool, gentle hand on my back. "You have...made a decision?" she asked softly.

I managed to nod.

"Between you and her, things are..." She seemed to search for the right word. "Broken?"

I nodded once slightly again, though less certainly this time.

"Was she very upset?" she asked gently.

I hesitated. I shook my head slightly, then hesitated again. I swallowed hard, then swallowed again, trying to force down the lump in my throat, but a part of it still lingered there even as I forced myself to speak. "Not...not too much. Not openly." I hesitated, then added, "I think...we'll still be friends."

Edythe's brows contracted slightly above her eyes. She studied my face—trying, I knew, to understand this outpouring of emotion, where it was coming from.

Edythe's gentle hand moved to my arm, and the pain in her face was almost as acute as mine. "Beau," she whispered. "Is this really the right choice? I can't bear to see... I mean, if you could see your own face now..."

I forced myself to really look at her. In spite of how ugly I knew I must be at the moment—my eyes burning, my skin covered in red splotches as I fought to keep down the storm raging in my mind and chest—I didn't look away. Her eyes were kind, understanding as always.

The hand on my arm I took and gripped between mine. I pressed her hand to my lips and closed my eyes—and while the storm of pain continued, it seemed suddenly slightly more bearable.

"I've been worse," I whispered hoarsely, and I knew it was true, as I thought back to those months of darkness what seemed so long ago.

When I opened my eyes again, I was sure they were still rimmed with red, but as I spoke, my shaking voice was slightly more steady.

"Edythe, would you...drive me home?"

"Of course," she said immediately.

I nodded. "I don't think...I don't think I'm safe to drive."

She pressed her other hand to my cheek, stroking it soothingly.

I took a deep breath, then added, "And...when I get there...will you come see me in the morning?"

She hesitated. Her eyes met mine, and she seemed to understand. "You don't want me to stay?" she asked softly. Her tone was more gentle than hurt.

I didn't want her to get the wrong idea. "Edythe, I...decided. It wasn't really a decision. But, I can't...I don't want you to see me like this. I just need a little time to work it through. Before everything can be what it's supposed to be again."

Edythe regarded me for a long moment. She pulled the hand I had been holding from my grip, and put it to my other cheek, and cradled my face in her hands. "If this is something that you must do alone, so be it," she said softly. "But—I hope you won't send me away if it is only to spare my feelings. If you have really, truly chosen me—no, even if you hadn't—you know I would do anything to ease your suffering."

I gazed down at her, and I found my own hand rising to touch her face. She really was too good for me. The truth was, I wanted her to stay. I wanted to bury my face in her shoulder and let the terrible grief fighting to tear itself from my throat come flooding out. I wanted to let myself find solace in her compassion and understanding and impossible love that never wavered—but I wouldn't do that. I had to send her away, before I could ever let her let me be that selfish.

We quietly traded seats, Edythe somehow slipping over me and shifting me over without my even realizing it. Edythe held my hand as she took me home.

As I headed in the front door, and Charlie got a look at my pale, dead face, I nearly sent him into a panic. I had to reassure him that Jules was okay, that nothing had happened to her. She was out of danger, as Carine had said—out of physical danger anyway. Charlie could obviously tell that something was wrong, but he didn't ask for any details and I didn't offer any.

I found the room dark as I entered. For just a moment, some childish part of me hoped to find Edythe had ignored what I said, and would be there waiting for me after all—but of course, she wasn't. I had given her my request, and now she was honoring it.

Without turning on the light, I went and laid down on my bed, not even bothering to change. I lifted my wrist, and I saw once again the leather bracelet with the wooden wolf. On the quiet drive here, I had seen it, and I'd moved for the cord to pull it off. Edythe had reached over and put a hand over mine, to stop me.

"Keep it," she had murmured. "It's a part of you, Beau."

I let my wrist fall back to the bed, and I closed my eyes.

* * *

It was a long night. The memories continued to churn like a violent storm in my head—my first memories of meeting Edythe, and all the memories of La Push. They seemed to fight and tear at each other, trying to pull me apart.

When at last I finally fell asleep, ghostly images floated through my consciousness. I found myself back in the tent on the side of the mountain, Edythe and Jules facing one another down, faces contorted in wild snarls—only in the dream, they both transformed, and suddenly it was no longer Jules and Edythe, but two versions of myself. Angrily they snarled at each, on the verge of a fight.

However, as the hours of the night passed, and morning approached, the memories settled, and instead of violence, I saw Edythe's gentle face as she told me to consider, that she would be happy with whatever I chose, and I saw Jules's slightly sardonic smile as she told me she was giving up, that she understood, that she would let me be the person I wanted to be, and simply be my friend.

And as I remembered their kindness, the two snarling halves settled as well. The side that, even now, still longed to return to that place in La Push, to go back and sit on the bed and talk and joke and contemplate a very different future from the one I had chosen, retreated back, accepting defeat. Not gone or forgotten—but calm. The fight was over.

I opened my eyes to the sound of birds outside—it was morning, and as I sat up, I saw soft morning light filtering in through the window. I felt exhausted after the night. My mouth felt dry, my limbs all ached. And yet, I felt oddly at peace. I was hardly absolved of guilt for all I had done, especially how much I had hurt one of my closest friends—but I had chosen my path, and now my gaze was fixed upon it. The conflict had settled, and in spite of those two sets of separate feelings, I was of one mind again. One heart.

I saw a figure, sitting in the rocking chair near the window. Her eyes were on me, and I knew she had probably been watching me for some time. Her face was filled with concern—and, I thought, as painfully beautiful as I could remember.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly.

I nodded once.

"And you are..." She hesitated. "Decided?"

Again, I nodded. I turned to put my feet on the floor, and I stood up. I meant to go over to her, but she was at my side in a moment—perhaps afraid I might get vertigo.

I touched her arm, and pulled at her slightly, and in a moment we were both sitting down on the bed, my hand on her arm beside me, her hand touching mine.

"Yeah," I said, smiling. "I told you I was. I just...needed a chance to work through."

"Is this really the right thing?" she whispered, for the umpteenth time. "Are you sure, Beau? Absolutely sure?"

I stared back at her seriously, earnestly. I nodded once. "I'm sure. When it comes to things like this, I'm not the kind of guy who goes halfway, back and forth. I love you, Edythe, need you, and I always will. I...couldn't live without you. So I'm going to do my best to love you the best way I know how, the way you deserve."

Edythe nodded slowly.

I breathed deeply, then I smiled and took her hand. And strangely, everything felt oddly normal.

"You know, we really need to get a move on our wedding," I said conversationally. "I hear there's a ton of stuff to plan."

Edythe smiled wistfully. "Not if we go to Vegas." She hesitated. "I've been thinking, Beau...I know you weren't really thrilled by my request, even though you agreed. And I know it may cause some strife between you and your mother. So—I've changed my mind. We don't have to get married if you don't want to, even Vegas. I'll change you myself anyway—and there will be plenty of opportunities for weddings after that. I'm sure we'll have more than enough."

I shook my head. "No, you were right. Before I change, I want my parents to be able to experience this with me. To see what my choice is." I grinned a little ruefully. "Even if my mom is ticked off at me."

I held her slender hand between mine. "It's going to be a traditional wedding," I said. "I want it to be like you want it to be. You choose who to invite, what kind of cake we'll have, what vows we'll read...make it everything you ever wanted it to be, and I'll be happy."

Edythe gazed back at me for a moment. She opened her mouth as though to say something, and I quickly added, "And don't try to tell me you'll just be happy with anything _I_ want, because it'll just be a completely circular conversation and we'll probably be here all day. This is one argument you're not going to win."

Edythe paused, still looking up at me, then slowly shook her head. "You really shouldn't let what Archie said get to you, you know. Just ignore him."

I stared back at her for a long minute. Then, without answering, I got up from the bed.

I went to the closet and began rummaging through it. At last I reached up and pulled a shoebox off the top shelf. Blowing off the dust, I reached inside and beneath a collection of other sentimental trifles, I found what I was looking for.

I pulled it out, holding it in my palm.

"What is it?" Edythe asked uncertainly, still sitting on the bed. She couldn't see from her angle.

I gripped the small box tightly. Then, replacing the larger box on the shelf, I slowly turned around.

I fidgeted a moment, looking a little sheepish.

"I want to do something. Something kind of embarrassing, and maybe kind of dumb after how I've been acting the last day or so. But...I've decided. Sometimes you have to make sacrifices, and I hope when you see me make sacrifices—real sacrifices—you won't be sorry about it, it'll just make you realize how much I love you. How much I want to be with you."

I approached slowly, and I stood in front of her, where she still sat on the edge of the bed. I got down, awkwardly, on one knee, and the little black box I was clutching to my chest I held out.

"Um, E-Edythe," I began, stuttering a little. I could feel the heat creeping up my neck, red splotches forming on my face. Totally ridiculous, as we had already had this conversation and I knew the answer—yet my heart was hammering in my chest and sweat had broken out on my palms.

"Edythe Cullen...I love you...more than anything. Would you...do me the honor...marry me?"

It was not graceful, it was not smooth. Any movie director worth his salt probably would have fired me from any romantic role based on this performance alone.

But as Edythe gazed down at me, her face was full of such emotion it was impossible to describe.

"Yes," she whispered.

I realized I'd forgotten to open the box, and I fumbled with it a minute, before it finally sprang open. I was almost half afraid the ring would somehow be gone—I hadn't looked inside since it had first been given to me years ago—but there it was, nestled in the cushions. I also had the thought I wished I'd thought to polish it up a bit earlier, but as I looked at it, though the outside of the box was a bit dusty, the ring didn't look as though it needed any cleaning. The small diamond glittered in the light of my room, the gold band gleaming.

I held the box up for Edythe to see, and she extended one delicate hand willingly.

I pulled out the ring, and gently eased it onto her finger.

She lifted her hand and gazed down at it, and though I knew vampires couldn't cry, she blinked rapidly, and her gold irises seemed to turn to liquid.

"That was my grandfather's," I said. "Gramps. I guess that was the engagement ring he gave my grandmother. He gave it to me before he died. Um, I guess we'll have to get it sized..."

Edythe was still gazing down at the ring, almost mesmerized, then her eyes flickered up to my face. She opened her mouth as though to speak, but then she closed it again.

I awkwardly climbed to my feet, face still slightly red, and a moment later I felt Edythe's arms around me, her head resting against my shoulder.

"I don't deserve you, Beau," she murmured.

"No," I agreed, wrapping my arms around her and sighing as I rested my chin on her head. "You could have done so much better."

She laughed softly. "I would try to point out the error in reasoning there...but I'm afraid you're growing accustomed to winning arguments now."

Edythe must have sensed my distraction or a sudden tension in my body, because after a minute of silence she asked with some concern, "Is something wrong?"

I sighed heavily and pulled away to look in her face. "Are you up for something that might be kind of dangerous?" I asked.

"Anything," she said immediately, then considered. "Well, dangerous for me," she amended. "You...we might have to negotiate."

"I mean kind of emotionally threatening," I said. "Like, totally awkward. Like telling Charlie we're getting married in a month."

Edythe smiled slowly—an expression that lit her entire face. However, she said teasingly, "Do you ever think, Beau, sometimes, you have your priorities a little backward? Like social events and awkward conversations are, in fact, not on par with potential death by vampires?"

I shrugged, trying to be nonchalant. "Death by vampires sounds cooler than dying of embarrassment. It's all about the glory."

Edythe laughed again, softly, that musical laugh I always found so distracting. She turned, linking her fingers through mine. I felt the cool metal of the ring still on her finger.

"Don't worry, I'll protect you," she said, her eyes glittering. "From even the most minor embarrassments. What's a wife for, if not to make her husband look good?"

My mind flitted back to an old conversation on a long drive, getting parts for a pair of rusted out motorcycles, and I felt the pain again as a distant throb. But I let the memory pass on—not suppressed, not buried, but not to be obsessed with either. Instead, it remained a part of me, still painful, yet fading—and I knew that part of myself would fade, the way an old vehicle rusted out and fell apart when it wasn't in use.

"I think you just undid fifty years of progress toward women's equality," I said. "That's not a very modern thing to say."

Edythe smiled. "Did I ever claim to be modern? I am a century old. Things were done differently back in my time."

I frowned as Edythe headed toward the window. "Do I need to ask Earnest for his blessing?"

Her eyes glittered. "I can ask him, if you want. Archie might have already told him, though. As soon as we decided to tell Charlie...well, he'll consider it open season, trust me. Sometimes I think there's nothing he hates more than keeping a secret when he's dying to tell people. I hate to say it, but he's always been a bit of a gossip."

I sighed, rubbing my temples. Sometimes having a psychic for a best friend was a bit exhausting. I followed Edythe to the window—if we were going to tell Charlie, she would have to leave and drive back.

I smiled wryly. Always with the pretenses, always keeping up appearances. It was almost becoming like second nature to me now.

A second before she left, I reached out and took her hand again, and she looked back. I leaned down and lightly pressed my lips to hers.

"Be safe," I murmured.

Edythe bent and pressed her lips gently to my throat. "And you," she said softly.

I stood at the window, watching her slim form disappear into the green, misty forest. I left the window open, letting the cool morning breeze brush across my face.

The crack in my heart still throbbed, an open wound. And yet, I was at peace. Because I had chosen my path, and now I would walk it without regret, for the one I loved as much as for myself.

At last, it would soon be Edythe and I—for all eternity.

* * *

A/N: And, there it is. Just one chapter left to go.

Again, I rewrote the early part of this chapter quite a bit recently, since I felt like it was feeling too similar to the original, and with the genderswap I thought that something a little different would work better.

Incidentally—as we get closer to the kind of lull time between the end here and Breaking Dawn, with only a partial Midnight Sun in between, if you have a chance, you might want to go check out some of WinterSunshine's work. (It's the entire series from Edythe's point of view, starting with the complete Life and Death, and she's currently just finishing up Eclipse.) Incredibly high quality of writing, and very in-character—not to mention frequent updates. The first one is called 'Daybreak,' which you can probably find pretty easily just by changing the world filter in the search options to Life and Death.

Thanks so much for reading! Just the epilogue left to go now—we'll be going back to the regular posting schedule for the final chapter. If you have a moment, let me know what you thought, and see you next time!

Posted 4/16/18


	28. Epilogue

A/N: Back again! Finally made it to the last bit. Even though I think in terms of word count this story is almost exactly the same length as New Moon, it felt longer, maybe because the update schedule was slower.

I have to admit, I've been dreading putting this one up. Hopefully I'll still be alive when you read the last half of this chapter. (If you don't like where my Breaking Dawn seems to be going, there's always WinterSunshine's version to look forward to, and it's already several chapters in. It's always nice to have alternatives, eh?)

Anyway, as always, hope you enjoy, and see you at the end! C:

* * *

Epilogue—Leverage

 **Julie Black**

"So, just how long is this going to take? Huh, Black?"

I didn't turn to look at Lee, where he'd sauntered up to stand beside where I sat, on the hard rock on the edge of my cliff. This was _my_ place—the place I'd always gone to get away when I needed a place to get away to, even before my life had changed into some crazy circus of mythical monsters. Not that I'd needed it all that much before then.

"I mean," Lee continued, sprawling himself out on the bare rock face beside me, head propped up on one elbow, "You're starting to give me ulcers. I really don't know how much more of this I'll be able to take."

I glanced in Lee's direction for the first time.

This spot had always been my place, a place only I knew about, where I could go to be alone. At least before I joined the pack, and every little thing in my mind became common property. No secrets—that was part of the sisterhood of the Quileute wolves. But even then, the others had all kept away, let me have my space. All except Lee, who loved nothing more than to get in my face and grind my last nerve.

Before he'd joined the pack, a lot of the girls had thought he was kind of dreamy—those deep, dark eyes, and wavy black hair. I'd always found him a bit too boy-band for my taste, but now that he was a part of the pack, no one thought he was even remotely good-looking anymore. If the pack was a well-oiled machine, then Lee was a squeaky bolt, a constant annoyance. Or at least, he tried his level best to be.

"Go jump off a cliff, Lee," I said calmly. "There's one right here. If you need any help, just tell me."

A few months ago, I had been pretty easy to set off. All it took was a little needling, and I'd feel the fire shudder down my spine as my entire frame shook and tried to be taken over with the wolf—but the control came naturally to me now. I didn't shudder, no red haze tinted my vision.

Lee continued as if I hadn't spoken. "See, look at things from my perspective. Your little obsession with this leech-lover is affecting me, too. Last night I dreamed I was making out with the guy—I mean, what the hell? I shouldn't have to go through that."

I felt a tinge of heat creep up my face, but I kept my expression even. That was typical Lee—other people's heartbreak was nothing, all that mattered was how it affected him personally _._

"Sorry to be such an inconvenience," I said, drawing out the words in mock-penitence. "Want me to pay for your therapy?"

He shook his head. "I don't need therapy, I need for this to be over. How about I give you some free advice?"

I was still gazing out at the ocean, the waves rolling far out on the horizon. My nose wrinkled. Advice from Lee was about as welcome as wet socks, and smelled almost as bad. "I have a better idea," I answered. "You take your little fantasy that all the stars and planets orbit the little place where you're standing, and _go away_."

"Here's the thing," he said, ignoring me. "Beau Swan's gone. He's going to marry that thing—end of story. So give it a rest and move on."

I was sitting very still now, no longer relaxed. I stared straight ahead.

Lee had hit a nerve and he knew it. His mouth twitched in a triumphant smile.

"He's going to be one of them before long anyway," he continued, pressing his advantage. "If he even survives. All the stories say they die more often than not. That would be better closure than a wedding if you ask me." He was grinning full on now, showing his even, white teeth.

This time it was a fight. I could feel the hot taste in my mouth, the fire trying to slide its way down my back as my body tried to shake apart. I wrestled with it, forcing it back down, forcing myself to keep it together.

When I was still again, I turned my head to give Lee a cold look. He smiled back. He loved that—getting a rise out of me. After everything went wrong in his life, he thought it gave him a bit of control. What a moron. Because the very weapon he could level at me, drawing the most painful thoughts of my mind to use against me, I could also use against him—and he was even more of an idiot if he thought I wouldn't.

"You know, Lee," I drawled, "I might try being more considerate if I were you. If you think sharing _my_ thoughts is bad, think of how the rest of us feel being forced to share a mind with _you_. Catching ourselves making doe eyes at Sam, you honestly make us all feel a bit pathetic. You might as well daydream about kissing Beau some more instead—you have about the same chance of that happening."

I was prepared to keep going, warming up to some more devastating attacks. However, Lee didn't have near the same tolerance or control as I did, and I watched his face contort, first with a sharp twist of pain, then anger.

He leaped to his feet, cursing me furiously, then spun and ran for the trees, vibrating like a tuning fork.

I watched him go with mingled satisfaction and guilt. Sam would probably give me grief for poking at his wounds, even though it was his own fault for acting like a jerk. He shouldn't be dishing it out if he wasn't prepared to take it. Maybe he'd think twice about bugging me now.

I turned again to stare out at the great, vast ocean, listening to the sound of the waves crashing against the jagged stone cliff below. I tried to shake off Lee's words, but I couldn't—not the very thoughts that had been going through my mind again and again, etching themselves there until they would never be erased.

I'd given up fighting. Now that I had, it didn't seem so completely unbearable—I could live with the fact that I'd lost, and Beau had chosen someone else. I could live my annoyingly long life alone.

But a fear continued to curl in my stomach—two fears, like twin blades, impaling my insides from two angles.

If this were a normal world, then Beau's choice would only mean that I would be alone—that I wouldn't be the one to share his life, wouldn't have his kids or be allowed to be the one there for him in the hard times. The loss was a heavy blow, almost overpowering, but I could take it.

But this wasn't a normal world, and Beau had chosen a vampire. And soon, he would become one of them—one of the very monsters who haunted the nightmares of all our tribe, who made our nostrils burn and our blood boil with the need to kill. His heart would stop beating, his skin would ice over and his eyes would burn red. His mind would crystallize into that of a deadly predator, consumed by only one thing—could the creature he had chosen to become still be Beau? Or would he be a stranger?

And then, of course, he may not make it through the transformation—he could die in the process. Beau had seemed confident he would make it, but Lee was right, all the stories said otherwise. Maybe the bloodsucker had sugarcoated the chances—she sugarcoated a lot of things.

And a small part of me wondered if Lee was right about something else—if it would be better if Beau _did_ die, and didn't have the chance to become a monster, to become what the Beau of now would surely hate. How could I bear to see the person I loved hurt someone? Kill someone? For me, I couldn't bear to see anything happen to him. But for Beau...wouldn't allowing him to betray himself be the worst betrayal of all?

I watched the swells roll toward the beach, disappearing from sight under the edge of the cliff. My thoughts continued to brew, like a coming storm, indecision pulling me in two, pain burning in my chest, and of course, an unquenchable, slowly building anger. I knew I was about to lose the most important person in my life, and I was helpless to do anything to stop it. I wished I could escape—to allow my shape to shift and change was often a relief, to escape my human mind and find refuge in the simple needs of the wolf. But I knew Lee was out there now, and the last thing I wanted was to have him in my head.

I don't know how long I sat there on the edge of the cliff, gazing out at the water. But the sun had long since sunk behind the horizon when I finally climbed to my feet.

I didn't really want to go home. I'd been staying away more and more lately—I probably seemed like I was turning into some kind of delinquent, but I preferred to be out running in the woods as opposed to sitting around the house, or even working in my garage. It felt like that life was far behind me now, and the garage especially now held too many painful memories, colored with regret and the bitter aftertaste of failed hopes.

But I was hungry, and unless I wanted to go foraging in the forest for mushrooms, I didn't have much choice.

I forced my arm through my sling and picked up my crutches—just props, of course, I was already completely healed from my injuries. But Charlie had seen me that day and everyone knew about my "motorcycle accident." So I had to keep putting on a show.

When I walked in the front door of my house and got a look at the expression on my mom's face, I nearly turned around and walked out again. I knew that look—that overly casual, nonchalant look she got when she had something to tell me she'd rather not.

She talked more than usual, too, rambling on about the day and some mundane plans to go fishing with so-and-so next week. The rambling was another sign. She didn't usually talk so much.

I decided to pretend like I hadn't noticed, focusing my attention on the food in front of me. I'd get it down as fast as possible, then I'd be out the door again. Maybe I'd get away before she worked up to whatever it was she was avoiding.

"...and Saul stopped by today," she was saying. She spoke a little louder than usual, making it hard to ignore. "Good father. It takes a lot of grit, raising a daughter in the pack. And now he has a son, too. I don't know how he's managing it, and from what I've heard, that Lee was a handful before the change."

She waited briefly for my response, but I said nothing. Even hearing Lee's name briefly set my teeth on edge, and I wished she'd turn the conversation to something else.

"Sarah's been taking all this very well—but then, she was always much better behaved than her brother..."

I finished the last of my meal. I briefly considered getting up and trying to make a quick exit—but, avoiding hard truths wasn't exactly me, even with the mood I was in. So instead, I just let out a long sigh, staring out the window, as I waited for her to get to it.

She paused for a second too long. "We got a letter today."

It was abrupt, so abrupt I knew this was what she had been putting off telling me.

"A letter?" I echoed vaguely, still gazing out into the darkness through the window pane.

"Yes," she answered, trying to sound casual, but with her wary eyes focused on my face. "A...wedding invitation."

I was silent. My body had frozen where it was, and I didn't see what I was looking at.

She continued, "There was a note inside addressed to you. I didn't read it."

My gaze had slipped down to the table now, and I was concentrating on sitting very still—stopping the sliver of fire that tried to slither its way down my spine. All my instincts screamed for my transformation—not just the anger, but also the feeling of a threat closing in, as though a predator, an enemy, was charging in with teeth bared and claws extended. Every instinct screamed at me to ready myself for a fight.

My mom drew a thick ivory envelope from where she had stashed it between her leg and the arm of her wheelchair. She set it on the table between us.

"You probably don't need to read it," she said. "Doesn't really matter what it says."

I lifted my eyes from where my empty plate still sat to the envelope. Slowly, as though it were someone else, I watched my slightly shaking hand raise up over the table and take it.

Inside was the invitation. I didn't look at it closely, but it seemed to be a simple, ordinary invitation on nice paper. Not overly fancy, just black words in a simple but tasteful type-face. I didn't look at the words, and instead my fingers found a slip of paper tucked inside, folded in half, my name handwritten in an elegant script I didn't recognize. It wasn't hard to guess whose it was, though.

Not at all sure what to expect, I flipped it open.

 _Julie,_

 _I don't think Beau would have intended me to invite you—he wouldn't have wanted to hurt you by imposing on you any sense of obligation. But I know that, had things gone the other way, I would have liked to have the choice._

 _Don't think I'm unaware of how deeply I owe you. Thank you—for everything._

 _Edythe_

I stared down at the note in my hand, numb.

I had known it was coming. Been expecting it. So why did it suddenly feel like a hammer blow to my chest, driving in the final nails of a coffin? Why hadn't it felt real until this moment?

Agony burned through my veins. I'd given up the fight, made up my mind to back off and let it be, to keep from hurting Beau. But despite my decision, as soon as I saw the invitation, and this cursed note, I knew the truth—even as I ordered myself to pull back and stop the fight, to rest, I knew the desire to keep fighting, to not let go until the bitter end and perhaps not even then, was still raging inside me, trying to get out. I couldn't tell if it was the wolf or the human—or some indistinguishable blend of the two.

Perhaps the kind words should have helped me find some peace. I knew she loved Beau—I couldn't deny it anymore, as I had in the beginning. She loved him more than anything, more than her own life. Loved him enough to feel something almost cordial toward an enemy who had done everything she could to try to wrest from her the meaning of her existence.

So why did I feel like this? Why, when I looked at the elegant script running across the page, did I feel so sick?

Because I couldn't push it away. I couldn't push away the sense that, beneath the elegant writing, and the thoughtful, sincere words, though maybe she did love Beau, it was still the love of a vampire. It was love, but a monster's love—perhaps seemingly perfect, selfless love at first, but once you dug a little below the surface, really a hideous, truly terrifying love.

Beau didn't understand that—of that much I was certain. I knew I had to give up, that it was over and done. And yet the pain felt like it would rip me apart from the inside out. The pain of my regret, my failure, and the pain of the fear of what my failure would mean.

The emotions swirled in my head, swelling until they were too much to contain, a storm.

I let the letter fall from my hand, where it hit the floor with a soft thump. Then I pushed up from the table, so violently the dishes jumped and rattled. Without a word, I turned toward the door.

"Don't stay out too late," Bonnie murmured as I shoved my way through the door.

The words of the note continued to play in my mind, in her perfect, soft, bloodsucker voice. They closed around me like a threat—and in response my mind chanted back two options:

 _Fight!_

 _Run!_

I longed for the first—but that was what I had been doing all along. I had failed, and all it would do was continue to hurt him, to tear him in two.

So I gave myself over to the second.

I propelled myself over the uneven ground, feeling the gravel and thorny twigs digging into the soles of my bare feet.

It was almost too easy to phase now. My body knew what I wanted before I'd even given it the command, and the moment I hit the cover of the dark trees I felt my body shift, and suddenly it was no longer my own—not my human body.

The trees were a black blur on either side of me as I flew through the forest, feeling the muscles of my legs contract and release in a steady rhythm. I could run for days like this and never stop—and that was exactly what I intended to do. Run and run until my complex human emotions faded, until I was nothing but a simple animal, with simple wants and simple fears, free from this crippling agony and heavy burden that pressed against my head.

But it was hard to be a wolf with other human voices in my head.

 _So sorry,_ whispered Emma in my mind. Apologetic at her intrusive look into my pain. I could see through her eyes—she was far to the north in the forests there, but now she turned, racing back to meet me.

 _Wait for us,_ Quil demanded, the tone of her always slightly bossy thoughts worried. Quil was closer, near the village.

I repulsed them, pushing out a wave of anger and defiance. A vicious snarl escaped between my teeth, a warning. However, they ignored me and kept on running.

I tried to block their human emotions from my mind, focusing only on the sound of the wind and the forest.

But I felt it anyway, felt their worry, their desire to help. But worst of all I could see myself through their eyes—see my own pain as though through the eyes of a stranger, and feel their pity.

Hatred surged through me.

 _Leave me alone!_ I snarled. Neither responded, or stopped.

However, there was a new voice in my head, softer, but with the unmistakable ring of authority.

 _Let her go,_ said Sam quietly. It was an order, and I sensed the moment when both Em and Quil slowed to a walk.

I wanted to stop hearing, stop seeing what they saw. My head was so crowded, but the only way to be alone was to be human, and I could not stand to be human anymore. Not with a human's overpowering, complicated emotions, not with their irreconcilable conflicts, fears, and loves.

 _Phase back,_ Sam directed the other two. _We'll come and pick you up, Emma._

First one human voice faded, then another. Only Samantha was left.

I had enough human left in me to allow myself to feel one last human emotion.

 _Thank you,_ I thought.

 _Come home when you can,_ she answered. Then the sound of her mind faded to silence as she, too, phased back. I was alone.

Blessed relief. Alone in my mind. The wolf thought of nothing but the faint rustle of the matted leaves beneath claws, the whisper of an owl's wings as it soared through the trees, the ocean in the far west moaning against the beach—nothing existed in the world but the feeling of rushing through mile after mile of forest, and the pull of muscle, sinew, and bone, working together in perfect harmony.

If the silence only lasted, I wasn't sure I would ever change back.

I could not fight. Fighting was at an end. So all that was left was to run. Run, and run, and run, until the human Julie Black, with all her regrets and fears and every other tangled emotion, was left far behind.

* * *

...

* * *

...

* * *

 **Volterra, Italy**

The night was almost perfectly still. Unusual, for a city known for its extravagant festivals and celebrations, and given to tourism. Almost as though the inhabitants sensed some impending catastrophe.

 _Humans are more aware than we give them credit for,_ thought Sulpicia of the Volturi. The way animals often sensed a heavy storm from the feel of the air alone, and were able to hide, humans often seemed to sense instinctively when danger, even dangers they had no experience with and could not possibly understand, approached. They sensed the pressure in the air.

Sulpicia leaned back in the stone throne of the main chamber of the castle from which she had reigned over the vampire world for centuries. Her mind was, as always, a tireless machine of thought, deciphering the countless memories she had absorbed that day, analyzing threats both internal and external, and forming potential strategies for how to combat them.

At the moment, all her highest levels of thought, all the tremendous powers of an intellect formed by knowledge brought from ten thousand memories and the experience of three millennia, were focused on one thing. On one problem. If the humans were quiet tonight because they felt the gravity of an approaching danger, they were quite correct.

"My lady! Mistress!"

Sulpicia's eyes had been closed—she preferred the empty nothingness of the darkness behind her eyelids when she needed to think to the noise and clutter of the surrounding physical world. However, she opened them now, in time to see a cloaked figure burst into the main chamber.

Normally, this room would be occupied by three—herself, Marcus, and Athenodora. The ancient ones, as the others called them, the core of the powerful ruling force known as the Volturi. However, Sulpicia had suggested to them both that they abandon the tower for now, take a few guards and take refuge in hidden places unknown to the wider vampire world. When in times of danger, better to take precautions. Sulpicia planned to vacate her tower soon as well—she had only been waiting for the return of the party she had sent to Washington. There had been a minor matter of a southern-style army of newborns getting a little out of control...which had made an excellent excuse to find where things were with a much more important piece of this latest game.

"Tacita," Sulpicia said mildly. "Is something wrong? Have you made preparations for our departure?"

Of the core guard, Tacita was generally the most stoic, impossible to rattle. She did sometimes have a temper in her zealous desire for justice and to ensure the order and peace the Volturi lived to maintain, but she had stared death in the face many times, and hardly ever betrayed so much as a flicker.

However, at the moment her eyes were wide, her sharp-angled face a mask of horror only too clear even beneath the deep hood of her Volturi cloak.

"Mistress," she said again, her rasping voice almost a gasp. "I just went to call the other members of the guard to come, and—"

"Let me guess," Sulpicia said softly. "We have a few defectors."

Tacita's jaw was tight. "Two, my lady." Her voice was no more than a rasping whisper. "Jonathan...and Alexa."

Sulpicia closed her eyes, and nodded slowly. It should not have been possible—yet, she felt a part of her had been expecting it all along. Of her guard, only those two were linked to the Volturi with something other than true loyalty. It wasn't real—and that had made it breakable. To someone with the right power.

Sulpicia sighed, and the usual sad smile that curved her lips betrayed flickers of pain.

"To think," she murmured, "I would have all my mistakes come back to haunt me at once. I should have had Mele take the powers of those two when I still had the chance, and bestow them on more trustworthy candidates, before they gained such expertise that the entire rest of my guard combined could not stand against them. And, of course, there is my other blunder..."

"We must pursue," Tacita said vehemently. "I volunteer—Cato and I shall track them down. They must not be allowed to join the enemy. With those two among _his_ forces..."

"I'm afraid it's too late," Sulpicia said softly. "It's been too late from the beginning. Those two are far too powerful together—our entire guard could not stand up to them in a fight. Our only protection has been their allegiance to us."

Tacita's face was white in the gloom of the chamber, a mask of dread and something very much like fear. "Mistress," she whispered. "My lady. You know what that one is. If we are defeated...and _they_ take our place..."

"Yes," Sulpicia said softly. "Our existence will be a secret no more... The soil will be soaked in the blood of the humans as they gorge themselves without restraint. But the humans are more resourceful than many of our kind realize, and will eventually guess what is going on, their danger—and they will fight. The death count will be even greater than it was half a century ago, when the last mad fool made a bid for power. At least _he_ believed in the necessity of our secrecy. He, though likely a tyrant, would have carried on our ways to some extent. But this one, I believe, is simply a shortsighted mongrel, who breathes violence and destruction. If he is allowed to take control...this planet will burn, and we along with it."

Tacita staggered back, stunned. "What...What can we do, Mistress?" she whispered. "If those two have truly gone to him...and we have no means to combat them..."

"Now, now, Tacita," Sulpicia chided softly. "You must not think I am completely without a plan."

Tacita's eyes snapped back to Sulpicia's, and, though there was not quite hope, the despair momentarily receded. "Yes, Mistress?" she whispered.

Sulpicia smiled slightly. "Now, why do you think I sent you all the way to Seattle on such a seemingly insignificant errand, in light of the crisis here?"

Tacita hesitated. "I did not know, my lady, but...I rather thought you wished to remove those twotemporarily, to prevent exactly this from happening."

Sulpicia shook her head slowly, regretfully. "Such an act could only have delayed it by a short time. Looking back, I see now it was always inevitable."

Tacita didn't answer, eyes questioning. "Then what?" she said finally.

Sulpicia's misty eyes sharpened. "Jonathan and Alexa's powers would be nothing—if they could be blocked. Then all we would need was a small party of assassins to infiltrate the enemy's forces, and eliminate the two largest threats."

Tacita blinked, eyebrows contracting. "But there is no one among our guard with such a power. Even the new boy we brought you who is to undergo training—we already know his shield power is not effective against Jonathan's. And I have met no vampire in my memory with an ability as you describe..."

Sulpicia smiled again. "Of course you are right, Tacita. There is no one among our guard with such a power. No vampire has the gift we need...at least, not a vampire _yet_."

Tacita's sharp eyes studied her mistress for a moment before they suddenly widened. "The boy!" she hissed.

Sulpicia's smile widened. "Now you see my plans, Tacita. Our hope. I hoped your threats might encourage them to change him a little faster. After all, we are a little short on time."

Tacita's look of wonder suddenly turned to a frown, and her eyes were abruptly cautious. "And, Mistress, if he _is_ changed...and he possesses precisely the power we can hope he will have... Do you really believe Edythe Cullen will lend him to us?"

Sulpicia's smile faded a little and her face hardened. "No," she said softly. "And therein lies the part that will have to be handled with extreme delicacy. There is a reason I did not tell you all of this before—because I did not want your thoughts to be seen. You remember, I saw into the depths of Edythe Cullen's mind—you cannot possibly comprehend the force of will it took for her _not_ to immediately consume the blood of her singer. And not only that, but to continually subject herself to the torment of it over and over again, and never once give in to weakness. The incredible love that took—Edythe Cullen has an admirable sense of justice, even a nobility about her.

"But when it comes to this boy, she is not rational—she is capable of almost anything. She would see the planet burn before she allowed him to be in any danger. She would sacrifice anyone or anything—she is a dangerous individual, and should we try to take him by force, she could very well become an enemy as volatile and deadly as the one we now face."

Tacita was silent for a moment. "Would she agree if she were able to accompany the party? To personally assure his safety?"

Sulpicia almost laughed, but she satisfied herself with a soft smile, with the barest tightness about the edges. "She might. Only she would be an even greater menace to our cause there. A mind-reader, nearly impossible to subdue in ordinary combat, or take by surprise. The only means of controlling her would be to threaten her mate, and as he is key to this strategy, we could not harm him, and of course she would be impossible to bluff. And her one weakness would be far too easy to use by the enemy...especially given the power of this particular opponent."

The slash in Tacita's brow deepened. "So...what do you propose, my lady?"

Sulpicia breathed deeply, letting the air flow out slowly from between her lips.

"We will have to find a way to pry him from Edythe Cullen's protective clutches. I saw in her mind the one way that may be done—and that is we must make him come to _us_. If he leaves her of his own volition...she may let him go. That is the key. He is the only one that can lie effectively to her, and we must convince him to do it."

Tacita wasn't convinced. Her brow furrowed even deeper. "But if the boy's attachment to Edythe Cullen is anything like her attachment to him...will that be possible?"

Sulpicia sighed, shaking her head. "It's all about motivation, Tacita. That is how the game must be played—to encourage an individual to act as required for the greater good, one must understand their weaknesses, what tools may be used to gain necessary control."

"But I thought you couldn't read this boy's mind," Tacita said slowly.

"I can't," Sulpica said simply. "But I did glean something interesting from another mind. I have a hunch, and I have decided it presents by far our best option—you may remember Archie Cullen, the one with visions of the future."

Tacita sucked in a sharp gasp. "He will see us!" she hissed. "He must know all—and is informing Edythe Cullen as we speak."

Sulpicia shook her head, still smiling. "No, Tacita, he will not see any of this, for one simple reason."

Tacita waited.

"As I said," Sulpicia murmured, as though in a trance, "it is all about tools of control. Some might call it leverage. And I think that Beau Swan _will_ come to us, even if it means leaving Edythe Cullen."

Sulpicia smiled once again then, and though her face was as gentle as it always was, there was a cold light and flash of steel in her ancient, milky eyes.

"I think he will come to us...because I have just made a decision that will make our future disappear."

* * *

...

* * *

A/N: And, that's it for this project. It's always exciting to get to the end of something, and as I said when I reached the end of New Moon, in some ways it feels like it's gone very fast, at least by my usual posting standards.

So—obviously ending on a bit of a different note from the original. I know this type of plot may not appeal to everyone, but when I first began this Reimagined project, I always saw Breaking Dawn, if I actually got there, as an opportunity to write a story of my own, a possibility radically different from the original Breaking Dawn. While unlike many fans I never had a problem with Breaking Dawn as an ending to the series, for this Reimagined project I liked the idea of ending it by writing a real, full fanfiction with these characters for the first time, something where you don't know precisely what's going to happen, or how it's going to end.

As I was initially tossing around ideas, one oddity about the original Breaking Dawn kept coming back to me—perhaps it was just my own personal impression, but I always felt that Edward, though he is obviously present and heavily involved throughout the story, was in the end not really a focus as a character. Part of that may just be that a significant part of the book was told from Jake's point of view (thereby elevating the importance of his complicated relationship with Bella as a plot focus), but I think much of that impression comes from the fact that, while we see Edward's struggles and conflict over the course of the book, his flaws as a character are seen mainly from Jacob's point of view, and are not something ever really addressed in his relationship with Bella. Because of that, in my mind at least, Jake's story and growth as a character felt more important than Edward's in Breaking Dawn.

Whether that's a fair assessment or not, I decided for Breaking Dawn Reimagined I wanted a story that would focus on Edythe as a character, not just the awe-inspiring self-sacrifice we've seen up to now, but also the darker side we always knew existed in Edward, but I don't feel Bella ever truly acknowledged. And even more—in exploration of a theme that may be antithetical to those of Twilight—the darker side of all-consuming love.

In any case, next up is Midnight Sun Reimagined. Just as a warning, many of the chapters are quite long—I'm constrained by the fact that, particularly for conversations, I have to go by what is in Life and Death and in many cases there didn't seem to be a good way to cut down or summarize. But, I'll be doing my best with the editing, and at the same time putting in as much work on Breaking Dawn as I can before it comes time to post. As far as rough drafts go, I'm working on the very last chapter now.

Thank you guys so, so much for all your support and for keeping with me all this time. (Some of you reading through these monsters multiple times, wow.) I appreciate every single one of your thoughts, and I've loved having in-depth character discussions along the way. I hope to see you over at Midnight Sun if you get the chance, the prologue of which should be up either later today or tomorrow, along with the first chapter—thanks again, and hope you have a great year!

Posted 5/7/18


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